The Atrophy and Redemption of Uchiha Sasuke
by Awsaya
Summary: Imprisoned and alone after the war, he was forever resigned to an avenger's peril, but she stretched out her hand . . . and suddenly the truth split through the darkness of his scarlet irises, and she became alight in his redemption.
1. Prologue: Funeral of War

**_The Atrophy and Redemption of Uchiha Sasuke_**

_Prologue: Funeral of War_

* * *

There was no doubt in Haruno Sakura's mind that life would never be the same following the end of the Fourth Great Ninja War. Every building panel, every clearing, and every mountainside would echo the gruesome battles for years to come. Every image would seem as a reminder of the blood spilt and the lives lost. Or, perhaps, it was simply the people themselves that would change, that would become jaded at the memories of violence and turmoil and stolen incorruption. Of bloody shuriken and impact-damaged katana.

Pale fingers shook as they were woven shakily through matted and sweaty pink hair; Sakura witnessed the grand red pillars of Konoha's entrance grow nearer with every step taken closer to home. She, Shizune, and the other medics aided the wounded shinobi along the tree trunk riddled path and arrived under dreary cover of night, remaining cautious despite the official end of the fighting only three days prior. The trembling ache in Sakura's muscles intensified with every step, most of her chakra reserves having been exhausted on healing the injured during the last stages of battle. Darkness eclipsed the surrounding forest leading up to the impressive gates of Konoha, the forest floor transforming into a collage of milky, haphazard stains of moonlight.

In wake of the chilly night air the crickets crooned a welcome-home dirge.

It was a comforting sight, but Sakura couldn't help but think how unbefitting the peaceful setting was for the eve of war. The fighting had ended and the shinobi were returning home, but the emotional sting and pain of war still burned like coals glowing at the base of a doused campfire. The flames were gone, but the threat remained, still dangerous and with the potential to scar and inflict great damage.

Shizune led the injured group past the village gates, ushering the patients inside and barking orders at the exhausted field medics. Sakura trailed behind and distractedly glanced back at the forest with anxious eyes. Shizune sighed, reached up a strained hand to rub her neck with a faint blue-green glow of chakra, and allowed the other medics to walk past her. She noticed her fellow apprentice straying near the overhang of tree branches.

"Sakura, are you alright?"

The pink-haired medic seemed to just realize that she was being spoken to. She started and spun back to face her sempai sheepishly.

"I'm fine, Shizune-sempai. Just waiting for Kakashi-sensei."

Shizune nodded and turned to follow the other medics back into the village just when the Copy-Nin himself leaped down from the wind-swept tree line, all lackadaisical and silent power. His silver hair seemed to droop more dramatically onto the crown of his head, his hitai-ate having been shredded almost beyond the point of wear during battle. The coils of exhaustion seemed to wind tightly around him, gripping and draining until he could stumble home and collapse in a boneless heap onto the shuriken print of his comforter.

Kakashi propped a hand on his right hip and took in the sight of the two medics before him. Sakura smiled at the sight of him, and Shizune just glanced nervously between the teacher and student expectantly. The Copy Ninja frowned in Shizune's direction, the crease between his brows saying it all.

The brunette sighed when she saw that Kakashi was only accompanied by Sai and a worn out Yamato, who had an unconscious Naruto slung onto his back. All four of the men were covered in dirt, their gear falling apart and their clothing and armor torn from overuse and injury.

The light that had made Sakura's verdant eyes glow upon sighting her teammates slowly seeped out and away like drained chakra. Shizune made brief eye contact with Kakashi, who could only shake his head solemnly and turn to face his only female student. Noticing the serious look on the face of his superior, Yamato decided to leave Sakura alone with her teacher and hefted his obnoxious load higher onto his back before following Shizune, who was quietly murmuring some reassuring medical jargon about the Kyuubi healing Naruto with its chakra.

Only Kakashi, Sai, and Sakura remained in the clearing. Sakura hadn't moved from her initial spot and kept her confused gaze fixed on Kakashi, with her large green eyes dull but expectant.

The Copy-Ninja's heart clenched.

As ecstatic as he was to have survived yet another war and return home, he had also dreaded this inevitable confrontation.

It was Sai that moved first, stiffly—for the sake of awkwardness or the obvious pain in his left leg, Kakashi did not know—giving Sakura a brotherly one-armed embrace. Sakura's head snapped up to look at her taller teammate in shock. He wore a sympathetic smile, which was surprisingly sincere.

Terribly, horribly sincere.

Sai, the infamously ignorant ex-ROOT member, the one who could not handle emotions since helplessly witnessing the demise of his adoptive brother, barely managed to catch his pink-haired friend as she seemed to crumble in on herself.

She had remained so consistently, so admirably strong during the motions of the war. Yet now, the young woman could only drop gracelessly to her knees and clutch onto Sai's midriff shirt. Trying to remember everything he had ever read about comfort and friendship, Sai slowly placed his pale arms completely around Sakura's heaving shoulders. He moved his hand over her back rhythmically, his comforting tendencies somehow coming more naturally with every coax of his gloved and ink-stained hand.

The seemingly unbreakable pinkette yielded and clung weakly to her teammate and sobbed like she had never cried before in her life. Brows creased and troubled, Sai looked up at his sempai without ceasing the gentle rocking and patting of his now treasured teammate. Kakashi walked towards them and slouched over the two shinobi hunched on the forest floor. He placed a calloused hand on the girl's head and ruffled the soft tendrils dampened by sweat, just like he did when she was younger. However, it only seemed to make Sakura cry harder.

And if there was ever a more appropriate time to cry, it was then.

Haruno Sakura never doubted that the war would change everything, but she had never, ever imagined this. Such heartbreak. No matter how much everyone should have seen it coming.

The last Uchiha would not be returning to Konoha.

He and Naruto, best friends with a bond that could never be broken by time, by distance, by influences of evil . . .

They had fought side by side. The sight had been legendary, a magnificent demonstration of the power and destruction of two warriors as different as night and day. Darkness and light. Ebony eves and bright dawning. The bonds of friendship had never been so beautiful, so victorious.

The enemy was defeated. The war was won.

And Uchiha Sasuke was not coming home. All they knew, all they could report, was that he was just _gone._

Sharingan Kakashi peeled his torn gloves from his forever-marred hands and allowed them to fall unceremoniously to the ground with a dull _clunk. _

As tenderly as he had ever been capable, Kakashi took his student from Sai and adjusted her comfortably into his arms. Sai took the lead and Kakashi followed, carrying Sakura back to the village. The two men were silent, feeling almost swallowed up by the eerily starless night sky.

Kakashi looked up.

A breeze had danced in unheard, its drafts swirling tauntingly around the deep green leaves of the trees, never to be caught, never to be stopped. If only mankind could afford to be so carefree.

The harsh winds kicked up again, carrying a peaceful, steady drone over the mountain peaks and endless sand dunes of Suna. But to a jaded man like the legendary Copy-Nin, all that could be heard were the cries of battle and the harsh, piercing clang of metal weapons. Misty fog blocked out the stars, and the usually bright Konohagakure moon seemed to be eclipsed by a mask of darkness darker than night itself. Only the faint outline of branches could be seen through the smothering haze.

Kakashi sighed deeply in his chest and allowed his one visible eye to drop shut to join its Sharingan counterpart.

Sakura's gasping cries finally began to soften and die down.

"S-Sasuke," she whispered, a cry following that made Kakashi's heart bleed. How she so reminded him of Rin.

Another sigh.

Surely this night was far too peaceful to be the funeral of war.

* * *

**A/N: This is an overly ponderous piece I wrote on a whim (Sasuke-style, haha). I know, I know; it's ridiculously melodramatic but I just needed a piece that would set the mood for this story. It'll be angsty (but not too dark; we're dealing with Sasuke, after all), it'll be emotional, and it'll actually be quite sexy.**

**I really do adore feedback and constructive criticism, especially since I need some serious pep to get this story going in the direction I intend. So please do drop me a line if you have a mind to, and tell me how I can make the story all the more enjoyable.**


	2. Memories

**_The Atrophy and Redemption of Uchiha Sasuke_**

_Chapter One: Memories_

* * *

"_Under our esteemed orders, a team of ANBU black ops was dispatched precisely one month following the end of the Fourth Great Ninja War. However, their much labored attempts proved to be unsuccessful, and the whereabouts of the missing rogue shinobi Uchiha Sasuke remain unknown. As the official council of Konohagakure, we have come to the unanimous decision that the last Uchiha be declared 'killed in battle.' _

_For the sake of our beloved village's future, we deem it necessary to expunge the unsightly deeds and betrayals of Uchiha Sasuke, including the less-than-honorable legacy of his deceased clan, from all existing historical records of Konoha. If, by chance, the young Uchiha is discovered alive, he will be captured and promptly executed for his heinous acts of treason." _

The exact words of the elders ricocheted back and forth inside Haruno Sakura's mind, despite the drunken yowling that filled the dirty roadside inn. Her green gaze unseeingly settled on the small ceramic cup of a questionable liquid before her—much too murky to be sake, and too light to be tea.

"Esteemed elders" her _ass_.

As Tsunade prepared Naruto for his transition to Rokudaime Hokage, the Grand Council of Fools was taking advantage of the Godaime's preoccupied state of mind, abusing their power at every possible turn. They knew that once Naruto became Hokage, they would be more than likely replaced or demoted.

Sakura scoffed to herself and returned to scanning the dimly lit room as subtly as possible. Her emerald vision passed over badly stained rice paper screens that portrayed lewd scenes rivaling even the imagery of _Icha Icha. _Raucous laughter filled the inn, drawing Sakura's attention to a large bamboo table at the far end of the room.

About twelve Rock Nin kneeled at various places by the table, pouring sake and yelling their lungs out.

Sakura cringed.

The smoke in the air was making her queasy and she resisted using chakra to filter her lungs, for the sake of maintaining her cover.

_Why did Shishou have to send me here?_ She inwardly mourned her wasted day off from the hospital. Tsunade had sent her to the western border of Fire Country to discuss a new herb with the neighboring village's medics, and instructed her to collect brief intel from a group of suspicious shinobi occupying an inn uncomfortably close to the Konohagakure border.

Hence being surrounded by the stench of alcohol, sweat, and smoke.

Biting back a groan, the pinkette decided to send a pulse of chakra to her ears to enhance her hearing. The Rock Nin were probably too drunk off their rogue asses to notice anyway.

"So, Fujita-san, I hear the cells in your prison have been filling up quite nicely recently. Must be as a result of the war, ne?"

Sakura identified the owner of the answering gruff voice as the rather large man currently kneeling at the head of the low kotatsu table with a blushing waitress sprawled on his lap. His clothing was obviously expensive and laden with extravagant silk designs.

"Ah, yes," the man's arrogant rumbling easily pervaded the drone of his smashed guests, "my prison is renowned for its Iwagakure guards and fortification. Even the Earth Daimyo himself recommends that high-security prisoners be sent into my custody."

Sakura looked away from her rancid sake and turned slightly to glare at the man out of the corner of her eye. She had heard of this Fujita, alright. He and his self-proclaimed authority were legendary amongst political circles, particularly in Tsunade's office when she went on drunk rampages about "that old Tsuchikage know-it-all and his insolent prison warden."

Granted, Fujita apparently knew how to run a prison, but as a ninja it was common knowledge that he couldn't even cut it against the likes of Konohamaru. He obviously wasn't against associating with less than . . . trustworthy company, if the number of Missing Nin surrounding him meant anything.

"Now, let me tell you all something that happened around a month ago," Fujita straightened his posture arrogantly and waved his hand to request silence.

With a discreet roll of her eyes, Sakura tried to drown him out by taking a cautious sip from her ceramic cup. If this man was about to go on a self-serving tirade, she definitely did not want to be listening all that intently.

"—brought him in with hardly any struggle . . . didn't even have enough chakra left to use that tomoe doujutsu of his. Poor bastard."

Nearly every muscle in Sakura's body tensed, and her cup of sake almost toppled over at the sudden jolt.

_Doujutsu . . . _

_Tomoe . . ._

It couldn't be.

The high-strung medic wasn't sure whether to quell the impending tears of joy or smother her suspicious anger first. Both were threatening to spill from her throat, either in gasping sobs or in screams to demand some answers. Her hands rose to grip the splintery edge of the small kotatsu before her, teeth wearing on her bottom lip to prevent the violent reaction nearly reaching boiling-point beneath her skin.

_Think, Sakura._

Sakura ran every possible scenario of Sasuke's survival through her head. Never for a second did she and Naruto believe that their teammate reached his demise during the last battle of the war. However, neither of them had seen the last Uchiha alive after he and Naruto finished the enemy off with a quick succession of attacks.

A small smile born of nostalgia curved the feminine ends of Sakura's soft lips. It had been a battle strategy the two had used many times during their missions together as genin. Occupied with an armful of a Kamui-exhausted Kakashi-sensei, Sakura had watched the battle rage on from the sidelines; of course, every bone in her body screamed to join her teammates against their nemesis, but a sense of contentment had somehow reached her as she crouched at the ready, healing her stubborn sensei and looking on in awe as Uzumaki Naruto and Uchiha Sasuke seemed to bring defeat upon the enemy in a whirl of wind, fire, and vibrant electricity.

Even after all the years spent apart and in apparent avoidance of each other (at least on the part of the stoic Uchiha), neither of Team Seven's young males missed a beat in coordinating the final attack, which the Copy-Nin managed to witness after the healing hands of his female student roused him from the dark realm of unconsciousness. Sakura remembered the look of utter, serene pride that crossed her sensei's face at that moment—the very instant everything seemed to explode and the aura of allied shinobi victory seemed to burst outwards upon impact.

He had taught those two that very same tactic nearly four years prior.

An eerie silence had followed; only the crackle of the pitch-black flames of Amaterasu formed sound as they burned on, daunting and inextinguishable against the destruction of the clearing-turned-battleground.

Sakura had forced herself to her bloody knees, ignoring the pain coursing up her spine—the result of receiving a Zetsu's kunai to the hip—and pulling Kakashi up beside her to walk out from under the meager shelter of the charred trees.

No leaves remained. No forest growth. No chirruping from the usual forest creatures.

There was only carnage—carnage marring the once beautiful terrain that had become upturned by both Sakura's fists and violent ninjutsu attacks.

As the smoke cleared, Sakura and Kakashi had begun to scout the area for their teammates, remaining wary and also watching for surviving enemies. Sakura remembered trying her best not to cough while she slowly surveyed the sight before her. The dead White Zetsu army littered the ground in varying states of mutilation. Mangled and unidentifiable, the body parts of their enemy were strewn out across the blood-painted boulders. A river that meandered through that particular clearing had begun to turn darker and darker until it appeared as a crimson sash of silk, snaking around the bend in the mountains and on into the trees once the ground began to level out in the distance. Night had just begun to fall, and the Fire Country sun became a blazing mass of pink and orange as it faded into the backdrop of the lustrous green hills and the now red, red river.

Beginning to panic, Sakura had picked up her pace and charged into the smoke, narrowly avoiding the dwindling flames of Amaterasu. And there, amongst the decimated earth and dead bodies, an obnoxious orange jumpsuit began to take form.

"Naruto!"

Hearing Sakura's scream, Kakashi ran towards the sound of her voice and found her crouching next to the Kyuubi container and scanning his body for fatal wounds. A bloody gash marred the left cheek of Konoha's hero and greatest advocate for true peace, blending in as a scarlet twin to the whisker-like markings already adorning his skin. But other than that and several painful looking bruises, the future Hokage didn't have a mark on him. Kakashi gave a tired chuckle as he watched Naruto crack opened the bright blue eyes that just never seemed to wane in emotion.

"S'kra-chan?"

"_Oh_," all the worry seemed to drain from Sakura's face, but it stayed pale with fright all the same as her emerald eyes began to glisten in pure joy, "you reckless, _stupid_ idiot!"

Team Seven's medic grabbed onto Naruto's bright monstrosity of a jacket and pulled him into a smothering, chakra-enhanced hug. The Copy-Nin looked down at his student's embrace and sighed. At that moment, he had suddenly felt as if he were a thousand years old, while somehow feeling a sense of uncharacteristic teenage giddiness at the sight of the two mature shinobi he had once taught.

Once Naruto's coughing and exclamations to Sakura about his injured cheek convinced her to let go of him, he had begun rambling animatedly about the fight, asking his teammate if she was alright and "Didn't you see me singlehandedly beat the living hell out of that guy, Sakura-chan!"

It was then that all three of them seemed to notice the absence of one of their own.

Various shinobi of the allied side were arriving at the scene to root out the source of the explosion. And Uchiha Sasuke had been nowhere in sight.

In retrospect, the pinkette could imagine him hiding, staggering with exhaustion until he disappeared into the smoke that rose in misty torrents as the result of numerous jutsu colliding.

Yes. That prideful Uchiha would rather suffer alone than turn to anyone else for help or—in an outcome that would enrage him the most—be brought back to Konoha against his will. It was painful to think that deep down, Sasuke really hadn't changed. Yet their relationship had, and whether or not it was reparable might remain forever unanswered; that was what killed Sakura the most.

And that must have been when they found him.

Bounty hunters. Rogue ninja seeking compensation for allegedly "apprehending and capturing" an S-ranked international criminal. Any number of things could have happened.

Upon realizing that Sasuke had escaped their grasp yet again—he had been so, _so _close—bitterness was featured the most on Sakura's heart as she realized that she hadn't been able to help him at all.

She had been sternly ordered to assist Shizune in guiding the injured back to the Leaf Village, while Kakashi and Naruto set out to try and find their seemingly forever-wayward teammate.

And yet again, all attempts were unsuccessful.

Upon waking up, Naruto had certainly blown a fuse—or perhaps fifty. Only Tsunade's threatening "You will never become Hokage if you don't _shut up!"_ had stifled Naruto's hysterical yells of "How dare that _teme_ abandon us again! Before I become Hokage, I'm gonna drag his uptight ass back here, dattebayo!"

Sakura's jade eyes narrowed in abhorrence, taking in the present surroundings that consisted of the drab inn rather than the destroyed lands of warfare. A quick glance at the long kotatsu table at the back of the inn assured her that Fujita and his band of rogue associates weren't leaving any time soon.

Dead. Killed in battle.

That's what the elders—not just in Konoha, but in all five shinobi villages—had determined as soon as the news of Sasuke's disappearance from the battle sight surfaced as public knowledge. However, Naruto, Sakura, and Hatake Kakashi had refused to believe it for a second. Even Sai, who had no reason to be concerned for Sasuke beyond his bonds to Team Kakashi, had shaken his head upon hearing the elders' "grand announcement."

Though much of Konoha's population was willing to accept the Uchiha as a war hero, the fact remained that he had committed crimes on an international level. But that wasn't what made the elders declare that he be executed if found alive—no, they only wanted to cover their asses before Sasuke came to murder them for their hand in orchestrating the demise of his clan, the events of which were only revealed to Sakura at the final stretch of the war.

Wave after wave of nostalgia numbed Sakura's awareness to her surroundings, until she gradually closed in on herself. She began to drown in the memories, the submergence sometimes pleasant, and at times grievous.

A blurry image of Sasuke's face formed and fluctuated behind Sakura's closed eyelids, before fading away.

Then she began to visualize the image of his own eyes, blazing vermillion with violence and the emotionless chill of pure killing intent. His hand at her throat, the cold stare appraising her with hatred for little more than the Konohagakure symbol glistening upon her hitai-ate.

Then she remembered the truer moments of Uchiha Sasuke, when the coals of hatred and vengeance had not burned so strongly and the bonds of genuine camaraderie had held on soundly from both ends.

Sasuke saving her innumerable times from harm. His soft smirk when he badgered back and forth with Naruto, that _dobe. _The spreading inflictions of the curse mark that slowly began to die away, only in response to the sudden jolt of her warmth against his back.

Chidori chirping and dancing along the shining blade of his Kusanagi as he wielded it beside Naruto, rather than against him—charging at the enemy side by side with his best friend.

The encouragements of the past . . . the trust . . . the memories . . .

"_Thank you."_

Sakura's eyes snapped open.

She swallowed and cast a long gaze back upon the table at which the rogue Rock Nin still sat engaged in drunken conversation. A few of the younger men were causing a racket and playing what looked like a ridiculous drinking game. One of them locked gazes with her, halting his laughter to focus more on the pretty woman sitting across the room with the odd pink hair and mysteriously expressive green eyes.

Sakura watched a lascivious grin plaster itself beckoningly upon the young man's mouth. Biting her bottom lip, she tilted her head in what she hoped was a look of innocent consideration. The rogue ninja's attractive gray eyes lit up and he raised a hand to wave her over. Several of his friends noticed the wordless interaction and began to beckon her over as well, laughing and clapping their friend on the back in a tactless show of pride and superiority—as if she was a lapdog that would respond at their each and every call.

The pinkette smiled back and flashed the gray-eyed shinobi a saucy look. Before rising slowly and stepping in the direction of Fujita and his party, she placed a hand against her right thigh and discreetly felt the comforting cool metal of kunai strapped securely against her leg and hidden by her traveling cloak.

If her teammate was being held against his will in an Iwagakure prison, despite the alliance between the five shinobi villages still remaining intact following the war, she was going to find out.

Oh, she was going to raise absolute _hell_ about it.

With a soft and sultry chuckle, the medic settled herself down next to the gray-eyed rogue, making sure to press the firm length of her left thigh against his.

"Have some sake," he grinned and extended his ceramic cup to her. His brown hair fell softly over his forehead, which—Sakura realized with a vague sense of dismay and pointless spite—was much smaller than hers.

Several hours passed. Judging by the vacancy of the inn and the sound of crickets symphonizing outside the opened shoji screen, it was some time near midnight. Dim moonlight cautiously spilled across the floor and over Fujita's snoring face. A bottle of alcohol had spilled onto his pristine clothing without his knowledge. Apparently, his friendly waitress had fled once she got the chance.

Sakura's smile widened as she looked around the table. By this time nearly everyone was beyond inebriated, some rising unsteadily to stumble home, and some already passed out on the floor's bamboo paneling.

Her gray-eyed devil was swaying in his rested position on his knees, his scarred hand pawing at her shoulder and slipping uncomfortably low.

"Hey," he breathed. Sakura fought to keep her nose from scrunching up in obvious distaste, "le's leave."

_Perfect._

Such close interaction with a Missing Nin—or maybe he only worked for Fujita; she couldn't be sure—could be dangerous and since she lacked the time necessary to contact Tsunade about the situation, there were many things the young medic was unsure of. There were many vital facts she did not know.

She thought of Naruto.

Of Kakashi.

Of the memories that made her heart race and pound until the deafening sound was all her sensitive shinobi ears could register.

Sasuke was _alive._

That much she did know.

* * *

**A/N: Not much happened in this chapter, as most of the plot takes off in the next one; this chapter is my version of significant filler, although the flashbacks and Sakura's observations are indeed necessary as far as transitioning goes. I sincerely appreciate each and every one of you, and I was very shocked by the prologue's feedback (I may or may not have danced around my room like a complete idiot). **

**Even if it seemed a bit redundant, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	3. Incarceration in the Pit of Hell

**_The Atrophy and Redemption of Uchiha Sasuke_**

_Chapter Two: Incarceration in the Pit of Hell_

* * *

The harsh winds swept Sakura's hair in a whirlpool of rosette disarray about her head as she dropped down into the chilly passageway. Her emerald eyes searched back and forth in the darkness before she spun on her heel and began sprinting in the direction leading into the hellish depths of the prison.

The distant _drip drip drip_ of the condensation falling from the black rock walls that towered intimidatingly around her filled Sakura's ears, next to her almost silent footfalls on the rough granite ground. Gusts of freezing wind plunged into the narrow passageway through holes in the ceiling, where rounded pieces of rock had been hammered out every ten feet along the top of the path, for the sake of ventilation in the hidden structure.

Filtering the darkness with chakra-enhanced eyes, Sakura carefully counted the number of breakaway halls that branched out from the main tunnel she was speeding through.

According to her friend with the flirty gray eyes, whose name was Shiro or something of the like, the southeastern corner of the seemingly archaic mountain prison housed the most dangerous S-rank criminals.

It had been ridiculously easy to lower the Rock ninja's inhibitions with a simple concoction that Tsunade had ordered Sakura to master when she was only twelve. That, combined with his inebriation, had turned Shiro into a talkative fool.

Afterwards, she had knocked him out by shooting chakra into his pressure points and left him in a shallow bamboo clearing right next to the inn.

Running Shiro's babbled admissions through her head, the pinkette had made the two-day journey to the largest mountain range just outside of Iwagakure, where the snowless winter chillingly licked across hills and into crevasses in the form of constant torrents of breeze. There, the dampened black rock cradled a stream until it fell and cascaded down into the only river of pure water in Iwagakure.

Upon hearing a strange whistling of wind, Sakura had discovered an odd stretch of granite that appeared to be flattened out by force. At first glance the dark rock looked smooth, until the young medic's eyes spotted a trail of craters that were three feet in diameter.

All she had to do was drop down into one of the hidden openings, and she found herself directly in the pit of the underground prison.

_Left. _

_Right. _

_Right. _

_Or was it left?_

Even with chakra, it was nearly impossible to make out anything in the darkness besides the pitch dark smudges on the walls, which Sakura assumed were the narrow entrances Shiro vaguely described under his thick veil of alcohol. The openings in the rock led to small rooms, each containing at least two filthy prison cells.

Sakura padded to a sudden stop, her senses detecting faint chakra networks coming her way. The sound of leisurely footsteps made itself known not long after.

Options whirred in her brain and within seconds her lithe body was pressed into a crevasse-like impression embedded in the rough surface of the wall. Casting a simple genjutsu and then regulating her chakra, she squeezed herself into the shadows as tightly as possible, and winced at the feeling of jagged rock digging into her back.

Three jounin dressed in traditional Iwagakure armor walked by, their shinobi boots kicking up water that nearly splashed Sakura's genjutsu-laden legs. The medic's nerves sent her heart into her throat and she reached out blindly with one hand to keep her balance.

But instead of finding purchase on rock, her shaking hand grasped the cool edge of something smooth and metallic.

Her verdant eyes peered down the dark hall where she had come from. Once satisfied that the Rock Nin had gone, she released the illusion covering her and began to run her hands over the metal surface she had just discovered.

It seemed to span about an arm's length across and stretched high above her head. A smirk drew across Sakura's face. Upon the realization that she had found exactly what Shiro told her to look for, beads of sweat began to form on her large forehead.

It was a door.

From the pouch at her thigh Sakura plucked a senbon, and felt for the lock midway down the slab of steel. The pinkette's brow furrowed. She sensed a chakra barrier inside the lock mechanism, which luckily seemed to have been carelessly placed. With a flick of her wrist, she redirected the chakra and used her trusty senbon to unlock the door before the barrier slid back into place.

With a screeching _creak, _the door yielded to the press of Sakura's hand, succeeding in adding a lovely layer of dust onto her pink head. However, before she could reach up to ruffle the debris from her damp locks, her attention was completely stolen by the sight before her.

A hallway about one hundred paces long stretched beyond the secret opening, a torch lighting up the area on the far wall. One cell occupied the wall on the left of the torch, and another cell was to the right.

Sakura squinted through the dust and became well aware of the smothering effect of the darkness inside, despite the dull glow being emitted from the torch. The cell on the left had its barred door swinging freely on its hinges at the gust of fresh air that was let in upon the young woman's entrance. The lack of a locked—much less closed—cell door indicated that it was empty.

With a sense of wariness, she turned to observe the cell opposite the vacant one.

It was firmly shut.

Sakura's side-view alone allowed her to see that several locking mechanisms adorned the door like sick wall decorations. More chakra barriers buzzed and glowed inside the locks; they were much stronger than the one on the metal door. However, she could not see inside from where she was standing. The weak glow of the torch barely reached inside the dark reaches of the cell. Sakura's heart sunk into her stomach.

Having always been a smart girl, she approached nearly every situation rationally and with reason, except for during the more crucial moments when her emotions seemed to control her. Unfortunately, all those instances had gone straight to hell.

As she kept her gaze locked on the metal bars of the cell door, she sincerely hoped this would not be one of those times.

The pinkette began to approach the barred room, all the while trying to maintain composure. Strangely enough, the only chakra signature she could sense was the hum of her own muted one. If she hadn't known what to expect (in reality she still wasn't completely sure, if she was honest with herself), Sakura might have been intimidated by the obvious skill with which the prisoner masked chakra. Even some of the most seasoned ninja exuded an odd static sensation where their chakra should be.

But not then.

Nothing.

She swallowed idly in front of the cell as she analyzed the intricate patterns that formed the cell's seal mechanism. Water splashed rhythmically onto her hair from above, nearly causing her to jump out of her skin.

The medic peered closer into the depths of the tiny, dank room but could not make out any signs of life. A bead of sweat trickled teasingly from the young woman's temple to her feminine and pale chin, where it dropped to join the cool condensation on the mountain floor. Her pink tongue darted out briefly to run across her bottom lip, before she reached out to tackle this set of locks.

Minutes elapsed before Sakura was able to determine the proper chakra configuration.

"Thank you, Kaka-sensei." Sakura murmured under her breath. With a burst of chakra, the seal dissipated, causing the complicated mechanisms to click and unlock, the sound rupturing the silence.

The door opened slightly, a beckoning creak making this encounter seem suddenly, terribly real.

_Oh, Kami._ Sakura released her bottom lip from between her teeth and reached out to grasp one of the thick metal bars. She really hoped that it would be a while before the guards came by again during rounds or to feed the prisoners.

She barely remembered opening the door and found herself entering the pitch room. The darkness and unsettling quiet began to close in around her and a choking sensation rose unbidden in her lungs. Her inner made an unwanted appearance and began pestering.

_You can't be panicking. What kind of kunoichi is afraid of the dark?_

Sakura frowned and almost surged forward until instinct yanked her back by her floral pink locks. What the hell was she doing here anyway? She should have sent word to Tsunade first and not let her emotions compromise the recon mission. Grief began to creep up on her until she was completely submerged beneath its murky surface.

The truth hurt. It hurt a lot.

She forgave him. Of course she did. She would _always_ forgive him.

But—_dammit_—this man could still kill her.

It wasn't like he had any inhibitions to do so before, although his behavior at the end of the war made it unlikely. Nevertheless, the jumpy civilian part of her couldn't help but conjure up images of him waiting, lurking in the depths of the cell with secretly honed stealth, as if he were a predator . . .

He could kill her if he got free, spill her blood across the stone and dirt floor before she even got a chance to look into his black, black eyes one more time.

Her panicking hit a shrieking crescendo.

Sakura reached down and reflexively fingered the shuriken in her weapons pouch. She shouldn't be here, she really shouldn't—

A faint clanging of chains shredded the silence.

The pinkette froze.

Ironically, rather than strike her with fear, the sound steeled her resolve. She could do this. She had to do this.

Trying not to wonder if the prisoner could see her through the inky blackness, the young medic renewed her courage and stepped forward, casting her fears into the farthest reaches of her overactive mind, and entered.

* * *

After the initial clanging of chakra-charged chains, the silence remained pervasive. Sakura, however, refused to back down and sent chakra spiraling through her optical nerves.

She grinned.

Appearing on the surrounding rock structure, bumps and crags began to become visible. Sakura's bright green eyes adapted easily to the dark, allowing her to make out the hazy silhouette of a male figure slumped against the cell's far wall. A shiver slithered down the young medic's spine—as an instinctual warning or a sign of fear, she could not be sure.

_I'm an idiot._ She snarled to herself.

After all, she wasn't even sure it was him. She closed her eyes in recollection, wondering what the prisoner thought of her unexplained presence. Could he make out her shape as well?

The water on the black cell floor pooled around her ninja boots as Sakura kneeled down onto her wrapped knees. The figure, still barely visible, remained slumped four feet in front of her, but Sakura could see the multitude of chains encircling his body, chakra buzzing through the metal and keeping the most threatening parts of his body hindered.

The fact that Sakura couldn't see where exactly the chains burrowed into the jagged wall flashed fleetingly through her mind.

Suddenly the prisoner began to shift and his muscles tensed when he realized that he was no longer alone. He silently cursed himself for yielding to yet another bout of agony-inducing unconsciousness.

Sakura observed him cautiously and drew closer and closer once she was sure her life was in no immediate danger. With every shuffle she took on her knees, her view of the man steadily grew clearer. She was in awe of how threateningly powerful he still managed to appear when half-dead. Several seconds elapsed in the silence, and Sakura could hear nothing but her own heartbeat thundering unforgivingly in her chest.

The man shifted again, revealing to the medic a violent gash on his torso. Small streams of blood dribbled from the wound and onto the rest of his bruised abdomen. Only the tattered remains of a once-white shirt remained on his upper body, and were accompanied by a badly worn pair of dark, standard shinobi pants.

A horrified and slightly shocked Sakura watched as slowly, very slowly, the young man's head rose, his dark ebony tresses shifting and obscuring the filthy gauze bandages around his head even further.

Fear briefly panged her heart at the sight of his eyes being wrapped, as if . . . as if . . .

With a gasp, her hand flew to cover her mouth. Tears leaked from her eyes and her chest cavity feigned the sensation of being torn open.

It was undeniable now.

Despite his eyes being covered and his face appearing as one large bruise, there was no denying that his shell of a man that had been beaten to death's borderline was indeed Uchiha Sasuke.

Sakura reached out a shaky hand as her tears fell freely and left clean streaks meandering down her dirty face. Her vision was eclipsed by the glistening overhang of liquid; all her other senses seemed to become numb to reality.

_Oh, Sasuke._

All she wanted to do in the unity of that one moment was to touch him, to prove that this was not just a dream, and that she wouldn't wake up sobbing in her bed back home in the unwanted comfort of Konoha.

But before her fingertips could even make contact with Sasuke's beaten skin, he shifted once again. Stunned and inwardly badgering herself for being so flighty, Sakura snatched her hand away and watched the rogue with a mixture of caution and longing. In hindsight, their relationship had always been this way. They had once been comrades, yes, but was there anything left of a bond that had never even quite made it out of its tentative stages?

He had proven that his bond with Naruto still remained intact during the final battles, but what of her and him? Sakura and Sasuke.

Was there anything left to salvage?

As she looked at him then, the familiar sense of hopelessness, the sensation of being twelve again, began to creep up on her in the form of sorrow. It was so ironic that Sasuke seemed to be ignoring her even now. Sakura looked him up and down more carefully, almost afraid of what she would see.

Sure enough, the Uchiha had been beaten cruelly and neglected during his forced stay, like he was a traitor deserving of the most inhumane punishment possible. But wasn't that who he was, despite his change of sides mid-war: a traitorous rogue of Konoha?

The wounds he had gained during the war had obviously gone untreated and the medic in Sakura cringed to think of the possible infection that could have set in after a month. While Sakura was sure Sasuke could barely stand in his condition—much less attack her or anyone else—he was an Uchiha, and she'd learned enough to know it was certain death to underestimate one.

The shackles chaining Sasuke's arms to the wall, although Sakura could not seem to see the ends of the link strands through the darkness, clanked together as he straightened his back and lifted his pale neck until his blinded gaze was positioned straight ahead. It seemed to Sakura that he could see right through the blindfold and into her. Surprised and somewhat nervous as well, Sakura wondered that it took this long for her presence to rouse him. Perhaps he was more inured that she initially thought.

However, the kunoichi knew he was completely alert, listening carefully to his surroundings; that his genius mind was calculating hundreds of his options without missing a single beat.

A painful wave of nostalgia washed over her Sakura. He had always been this way. No matter what affliction befell him, Sasuke had _always_ been this way. It was so agonizing to recognize that while certain lovable facets about Sasuke never changed, he was still very much a stranger to her.

The relationship between Sasuke and Naruto had always been simple but strong, easily definable. But Sakura's tenuous relationship with him was woven together with a tension that they never seemed able to overcome—perhaps because Sasuke was Sasuke, or because once Sakura had begun to truly understand him, it was already too late.

Yet, after everything, after all the pains of war and tragedy, this jaded young man with unruly raven hair and damaged eyes would always, _always_ undeniably be Sasuke.

And that was enough for Sakura.

It was enough for Naruto. That was why they never gave up on the last Uchiha, and that was why it was terrible to see him like this, no matter the decisions he had made.

Perhaps that was why she had disobeyed protocol so easily and infiltrated the prison without notifying Konohagakure or Iwagakure authorities. Neither did she feel guilty; at the very least, Kakashi would be proud of her.

Seeing her ex-teammate broken and so physically worn, bloodied and borderline insane.

It hurt. Badly.

Sakura could only find consolation in the fact that, like Naruto, Sasuke was beyond stubborn and would not be fazed by any physical torment. She'd always admired this about the wayward Uchiha; he had the ability to seamlessly and instantaneously switch from being the prey to becoming the predator. He was all fighter, a hellion, something dangerous, and an unholy weapon that thirsted for justice in ways rooted in the darkness. It made him easily manipulated, but seemingly undefeatable if he was able to overcome his emotional weaknesses, just as he had during the war.

This young man had held vendetta in his hands and had tasted true, pure power.

But was this what his vengeance and pride had brought him? A dank prison cell and what appeared to be a paralyzed birthright?

Just as she had at the inn, Sakura continued to ponder the past of Team Seven; the tragedies, the disappointments, and the fond memories of an easier time. But nothing was ever easy for them, was it?

The room's stillness ended and there was a shift in the air. It was as if the prisoner too had been thinking. About what, Sakura could not guess.

More dark blood oozed from the fresh wound. Sakura's thoughts became scathing. The damn prisoned medics hadn't even tried to bandage or clean his wound properly—if they had even attempted to at all.

Then Sasuke tilted his head as if contemplating whether or not his visitor was worthy to be spoken to.

A shiver ran down the young medic's back, causing her to struggle to hold her breath in order to smother a pensive gasp, a sense of anxiety flooding the cell's atmosphere, before the buzz of silence was shattered completely by a complacent grunt of acknowledgement.

"Hn."

Sakura's eyes widened at the sound of his voice and waited with bated breath.

"Sakura."

And all at once, the pinkette gasped as the air was expelled violently from her lungs.

Although his tone was low and weak, and his voice raspy, it seemed to echo around the tiny holding cell and out into the endless reaches of the universe. The lackadaisical monotone thrummed deep into her soul and awoke a burning flame that she had kept carefully smothered for years. Then again, he always did make her feel as if she was falling apart.

When she tried to speak to him, Sakura found that her own voice was also husky from the shock of actually _seeing _Sasuke again, this close after so long.

"Sasuke," she rasped, "are you in pain?"

His only response was a droll snort. However, the minute and carefully restrained shaking of his muscles betrayed the fact that he was indeed in absolute agony.

But leave it to him to deny it so vehemently.

Sakura swallowed her tears and shook her head just as violently. Her knees splashed the water as she shuffled forward until she was settled just before her ex-teammate.

"Let me heal you, Sasuke," she insisted, bringing her healing hands up to the cut at his abdomen, "you're bleeding and it might be infec—"

"Tch. You shouldn't be here." Sasuke turned his head to the side. But despite the glower on his face, he didn't make any move to shove her away.

The pinkette pursed her lips with determination as she urgently rushed her cool healing chakra into the angry, red gash on the Uchiha's stomach. It was all she could do to block out the memory of Sasuke being swung into a cliff's rock face after being hit across the chest by the enemy's war fan.

"Why are you here," his tone was dead, drained of the standard curiosity one would expect in a question.

"I—" Sakura cursed herself for stuttering, "I came to find you. Everyone thinks you're dead, and I just want—"

"What you want is none of my concern."

Sakura's eyes narrowed. Apparently he still retained the ability to be absolutely infuriating. When she spoke again her voice was clipped.

"Fine," the irritated medic removed her hands from their position above his wound, which had healed into a deep pink scar, still fresh but no longer fatal. She was still concerned; there was no time to eliminate any possible infections. "But we have to leave here _now."_

Sasuke's head tilted as if he was considering her words, "You're a fool if you think I'll follow you freely," but then he shattered all her hopes of him ever returning with her.

A dam bursting within Sakura upon hearing his dismissive response, she leaned forward without thinking, her hands clutching at Sasuke's now bony shoulders harder than she intended.

"Why won't you come home?" she demanded, voice breaking. "After all that's happened since you left, why can't you return? Why _won't_ you?"

Despite the emotional rise in her voice, the Uchiha administered no response.

Realizing that her face had drawn _very_ close to Sasuke's during her plea, Sakura released her death grip on the young man's biceps and reeled back until she was settled on her haunches a comfortable distance away..

She couldn't look at him anymore.

"Sasuke-kun," as she cast her gaze down at the filthy floor and idly ran a finger through the cool water at her feet, her voice grew softer. She didn't even register the forlorn utterance of an honorific long forgotten. Looking back, she would find herself wondering if _he_ noticed, "I don't understand."

She chanced a glance at Sasuke and saw that he hadn't moved.

The gauze wrapped messily about his head didn't seem to be bothering him in the least, but Sakura found herself reaching up to unwind them, "Your eyes . . . are they . . . ?"

"No," he turned his head away, matted ebony hair swaying at the sudden snap.

Sakura sighed in frustration and reached down to touch the chains keeping Sasuke in this hell. Her verdant eyes attempted to find where the chains met the rocks, before they were pulled violently away from her. The pinkette leapt backwards in a panic, narrowly missing being hit in the head with the long chain as Sasuke flung it out with a sweep of a thin, but still muscular arm.

Upon her forehead sweat began to bead. Her eyes widened as pure panic and adrenaline monopolized her system.

"Sasuke, wha—"

She couldn't speak. All she could do was watch. He breathed heavily, muscles coiling beneath his skin, which had always been pale, but was now almost sickly white under the influence of weeks without sun exposure.

Sakura held her breath, looking on as he managed to shift a shaky leg beneath him and stood.

One alabaster hand gripped a protruding part of the mountain wall beside him, the other pressing against his freshly healed wound. All Sakura wanted to do was rush to his side but she was frozen still, eyes zeroing in on his anguished face. He looked both furious and in unspeakable pain.

"Sasuke," she gasped out, "what are you doing?" she stepped towards him, "Be careful! Don't—"

The pinkette cut herself off when Sasuke pushed himself away from the wall and stood up to his full height. He reached up one hand to pull the weathered strips of dirt-gray, blood-stained cloth from his upper body, revealing numerous more lacerations and what appeared to be burn marks. Sakura grew sickened in realization.

They had tortured him.

The broken Uchiha stood still for a moment. Sakura assumed he hadn't been able to stand in days and was attempting to regain his sense of balance.

It destroyed her to see him like this, weak and stumbling. Seeing him in such a state when they were genin had always caused her to break down in tears, and it looked like this fact wouldn't ever change.

The gauze fell deftly to the floor and began steadily soaking up the dirty water. But Sakura didn't notice.

Instead, she watched as Sasuke cautiously prodded at the skin around his eyes as if it were painfully tender. The eyes—Itachi's eyes—themselves were bloodshot, the destructive ability that came with the horrible ocular powers of the Uchiha masked by their appearance. Uchiha Sasuke, standing before the young medic, would look like nothing more than a broken warrior to any spectator. But to her—to Haruno Sakura—looking into his eyes after so long could be likened to the most addictive of drugs.

She realized then why they had been bandaged. It was obvious he had drastically overused his Amaterasu and Susano'o during the war, and although the stress wouldn't impair his vision because of his Eternal Mangekyou, dried waterfalls of blood were visibly caked around his eyes. Sasuke lifted his head to look at her.

With the effort, his shoulders heaved up and down, "That place is no longer my home."

He said it with such resolution, such conviction, that Sakura almost agreed with him.

"But it _is_ your home, Sasuke," she moved slightly, trying to subtly block the entrance with her body, "The elders are responsible for what happened to your clan, not Konoha."

Sasuke only snorted weakly, causing the desperate pinkette's sense of urgency to rise. She knew she wasn't getting through to him. Hell, if Naruto couldn't, what gave her the gall to think that she would have a chance?

But, as Tsunade would say, she was nothing if not stubborn.

"Sasuke, you have to return with me. What else will you do?" with a sweep of her hand, she gestured manically to the small cell. "Do you want to remain a prisoner forever?"

"_Konoha," _the rogue ninja spat the word as if it was the very scum of his world, "Konoha is responsible for the death of all I knew as a child. For my clan's disgrace. Their deaths. And for . . ." his voice retained its malice, yet his tone greatly softened underneath his sorrow, "for the torment of my brother."

His head bowed in what Sakura perceived was guilt. Itachi would forever be a vessel of memories, both precious and haunting, for the young but jaded Uchiha.

Then he spoke the words that the young medic had always known would be the outcome of this war.

"I no longer wish to live out my vengeance, but I cannot live in a village that destroyed my past."

"_We_ are your family, Sasuke," she pleaded, "Team Seven. So please, _please_ come back. Kakashi and Naruto, they'll always care about you. _I_ care about you," the pinkette's shoulders slumped. "You should know that by now, Sasuke-kun."

Characterized by an odd mixture of exasperation and amusement, a scoff from the young man brought Sakura's gaze back to her ex-teammate.

She tried to approach him again, but he moved his arm—the chains crested over the granite ground at the movement, their threatening presence as a weapon keeping the medic at bay.

Once he was sure that Sakura would keep her distance, the Uchiha slumped back against the wall with one hand covering his closed eyes, as if they were overly sensitive to even the light-vanquished darkness inside the mountain. The chains that linked Sasuke inside this hell weighed down heavily on his limbs, cutting bloody fissures into the thin flesh of his wrists and ankles. With watery eyes, Sakura followed the length of the binds until they disappeared beyond her sight and into—

It made sense.

The serious cuff wounds. The reason she hadn't been able to see where the chains met the wall.

Sasuke had already broken them.

With a gasp, Sakura watched as he straightened and pushed himself off from the wall. He suddenly didn't appear so weak anymore, and the pinkette wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or frightened.

"Hn," Sasuke smirked; blood poured from the corner of his lip, "You've always had annoying timing."

Besides the young medic's own life energy, an overwhelming burst of ominous chakra flared and practically shook the granite foundation of the mountain.

Black tomoe spinning rapidly and eyes glowing vermillion, Sasuke crouched and gripped his right arm with his other hand; before Sakura could realize what he intended to do, the prison cell exploded with such a force that the pinkette was knocked off her feet and flung violently into the opposite cell, causing debris to fly through the air with a catapulting force; the eruption of powerful jutsu utterly destroyed the surrounding terrain, rupturing the darkness with a blinding, wrathful paroxysm of stark white light.

* * *

**A/N: Whew. That chapter was a doozy to write, so I really hope you read the heck out of it. Figures Sasuke would escape just as soon as Sakura shows up...**

**So what do you think will happen? Will Sasuke get away and disappear altogether? What can Sakura do, now that Sasuke has slipped her grasp yet again?**

**Hopefully you liked the setup of the prison; I didn't want to go the typical route, so tell me if I succeeded or not. And if you like Samurai Champloo, I've posted a oneshot recently, so go ahead and indulge in it if you want. There is also a poll on my profile if you are interested in participating.**

**For those of you that are wondering how old Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura are in this story, I intended for them to be around the same age they are right now in the present manga chapters, seeing as it takes place shortly after the war. So, they are about sixteen or seventeen years in age.**

**Thank you very, **_**very**_** much for reading, and please review because I truly want to know what you think!**


	4. Thunder and Lightning

**_The Atrophy and Redemption of Uchiha Sasuke_**

_Chapter Three: Thunder and Lightning_

* * *

Sakura groaned.

Everything hurt. _Everything._

With a heavy sigh, she used her elbows to push herself up into a sitting position. Pain shot from her shoulder blade and down into her wrist, signaling to the medic that her back had taken the brunt of her collision with the wall. And . . .

Where _was_ the wall?

Squinting through the explosion's dust, Sakura surveyed the destruction and realized with a sudden sense of panic that the entire southeastern area of the mountain was simply _gone. _What had once been the wet rock ceiling of the prison was now an open expanse of azure sky. The pinkette's ears were still buzzing incessantly and she focused minute portions of healing chakra to her eardrums to minimize the damage. Something warm dribbled down Sakura's brow and she assumed it was water. Where the hell was her hitai-ate? She pressed a hand to the liquid at her hairline—her fingers came back stained with red.

"Dammit," she cursed, head clearing as the dust began to disperse, ". . . Sasuke?"

Sakura struggled to her feet. A wave of nausea slammed into her and nearly sent her sprawling back down into the charred rock and debris.

The cool water that had previously formed the waterfall's reservoir cascaded in rivulets throughout the unrecognizable terrain. Remnants of granite wall lay in heaps, water shooting up from the fractured ground.

"Sasuke . . . Sasuke-kun!"

Frustrated almost to the brink of losing her sanity, the pinkette wrenched a hand violently though her filthy hair; a clump of knotted pink strands ripped out in her hand.

Angry tears flooded her emerald vision, her teeth and eyes clenching under the torment of failure.

He was gone.

* * *

"Over there!"

Startled, Sakura turned her attention to the panicked shouts of the prison guards rushing over the shattered rocks and straight towards her.

The young medic bit her lip, mind kicking into her honed strategic mode as she took stock of all possible escape routes. Her ears registered the sound of splashing somewhere south of her in the distance. She remembered seeing a river beyond the small forest bordering the mountains, the source of which must have been the waterfall and its now decimated reservoir.

But before she could make any move to escape, the heat of a small _katon_ nearly singed the hem of her medic's apron. Leaping away, rose-colored clothing lifting from the flare of her somersaults, the pinkette managed to avoid the Rock Nin's further onslaught of fire attacks.

Sakura grit her teeth as she watched the five ninja attempt to circle her. They looked furious, watching her cautiously, and searching with shielded eyes that didn't quite hide their fear of the escaped criminal—they knew he was free and dangerous, and probably in the immediate vicinity. However, Sakura herself doubted this assumption and knew that she either needed to flee or choose to face this battle completely alone, which wouldn't be wise considering the present state of her chakra reserves.

And as far as the enemy was concerned, the small kunoichi before them was the one who helped their prisoner escape. Granted, that had been the pinkette's initial plan from the beginning, but it seemed Sasuke would rather put her in danger and escape by himself than return to the village.

_I'm sorry, Naruto_ Sakura reached into her weapons pouch, _if I don't make it out of this._

Her fingers looped around the frigid handle of a kunai, _And for holding you to your promise . . ._

One of the Rock ninja charged, chokuto slicing through the air.

_. . . When I couldn't even keep my own._

Sparks flew as chokuto met kunai and Sakura ducked down, spinning on her heel and swiping the man off his feet with an outstretched, chakra-enhanced leg.

Shuriken cut the air by her ear before she disappeared in a burst of cherry blossoms, and rematerialized ten feet away. With a yell, Sakura surged chakra into her fist and punched the ground; the earth shattered beneath the behemoth-like force and rock exploded outwards; long, wide fissures cracked the rock bed of the ground; the terrain shook with a violent rumble.

Falling to avoid getting hit and crushed by the debris, the five enemy ninja almost lost sight of the pink-haired kunoichi jumping from the cliff and fleeing into the forest.

* * *

Doubting that she had ever run so fast in her entire life, the medic leaped over the large boulders and debris. Her feet splashed through the waterlogged, knee-deep grass at the base of the cliffs until the forest drew closer and closer. The only thought going through her mind was get away from these Rock Nin and get away _fast. _

Trying to prove that she was a ninja from Fire Country, Iwagakure's ally, and not a rogue ninja would only serve to get her killed under the pressure of the moment.

Her chest felt like it was going to burst as she weaved in and out of the maze of thick greenery, chakra pulsing on the soles of her shinobi boots. Sweat and blood oozed from her pastel hairline and caressed the curve of her cheek before dropping from her chin and leaving a trail of crimson dotting the forest floor.

Her throat was raw from the cold air and her lungs were burning. _Oh, Kami, were they burning!_

Sakura only had a brief moment's time to worry about Sasuke and wonder where he was before the edge of something sharp sliced across the length of her back. She caught herself before she stumbled in pain, and swiftly changed course, deciding to head for the river. There she would have a better chance of losing her pursuers. Her chakra was already low from finding and healing Sasuke; if the five jounin managed to trap her, her chances of survival were frighteningly slim.

The pinkette hissed and wished she had a soldier pill so that she could heal her wounds. But she had used them up during the journey to Iwa, and the medic needed all her chakra to run.

After all, she was never as thick-skulled as Naruto. If you can't face them, evade them. This really wasn't the time to entertain herself with amusing thoughts, but in the midst of her panic, Sakura found herself wondering at how Kakashi seemed to just be a well overflowing with wisdom.

How silly to think such things.

And in the back of her consciousness, inner-Sakura was shouting some nonsense about too much blood-loss.

Huh. How strange.

Now that she thought about it, Sakura found that her surroundings were moving a lot slower than they were before . . . or was she the one that was slowing dow—

_There!_

With a deeply ingrained instinct that only the most adept shinobi were gifted with, the pinkette spun around, despite the further dizzying effect it had on her vision, and flung three kunai from her hand, all buzzing with the razor-sharp green glow of medical chakra.

"Ngh!" the Rock ninja that had been about to strike Sakura again with his chokuto collapsed to his knees with a kunai in his throat and one almost completely piercing his stomach to the hilt. The other kunai had embedded itself in a nearby tree, due to Sakura's badly impaired aim.

The sword, stained with the young kunoichi's blood, dropped silently onto the fallen leaves and bristles. And its defeated wielder soon followed after.

Sakura steadied herself with a shaky, battered hand against the closest tree trunk. The deep cut across her back stung as drops of sweat spilled into the wound. But underneath the sting was an underlying ache that seemed to be spreading down the young woman's spine and up the back of her neck.

_Poison . . . ? _She thought, overcome with sudden nausea.

Thundering footfalls and the yowling barks of several Ninken echoed beyond the trees, quickly approaching the medic and the corpse of their fallen comrade. Desperate and exhausted beyond reason, Sakura spun around and continued her trek towards the river, which was now her only chance to disguise her scent from the summoned hounds.

Stumbling steps carried the disoriented kunoichi closer to the rushing body of water; she tried in vain to use chakra to clear her hazy vision, but refrained from overdoing it; it was a deadly hazard to attempt any kind of complicated chakra manipulation when under the effects of toxins, unless it was to remove the poison itself.

"Dammit," Sakura collapsed on the tree-lined hill that led down to the riverbank.

The sun was settling lower and lower on the horizon and the mist was beginning to rise from the water as the warmer temperature of the river became visible in the dwindling light.

"Give up, kunoichi."

The pinkette leapt upwards and spun around in one unsteady yet fast movement, turning to face the four Rock ninja cresting the top of the hill after their Ninken. The dogs halted obediently and began growling at Sakura, who was slouched, deep forest-green eyes glaring, hair completely dampened by moisture, sweat, and blood.

"Forget it!" she growled and thrust her heel against the earth. The ground ruptured upwards.

Upon orders of their master, the three Nin dogs disappeared in small plumes of smoke. The other jounin struggled to back away from the flying upheaval and the cracking of the hill's foundation beneath them. Taking full advantage of the distraction, Sakura made haste and took refuge behind the large wall of rock and clay she had created, and settled four shuriken between the fingers of her least scraped hand. Suddenly, a torrent of pressurized _suiton_ breached the makeshift shelter. Weight down by impending chakra drainage, the pinkette barely managed to avoid a direct hit by the water dragon and fled from behind the wall that now resembled a shapeless heap of mud.

The water-using jounin cautiously circled around the barrier; his hands were already weaving through seals.

He paused, eyes never leaving the young kunoichi before him, "Akio, Hayate, you two spread out and find the prisoner."

Out of the corner of her eye Sakura saw two of the men retreat over the collapsed remnants of the hill and back through the forest. The water-style user glanced at the remaining prison guard and motioned with his head; in response, the taller looking jounin drew what looked like a stolen samurai's katana from its sheath and leveled it in front of him as he moved opposite the water user, who appeared to be the guard with the authority.

Attempting to keep both the remaining Rock shinobi in her sights, Sakura constantly began adjusting her stance, desperately trying to keep either of them from circling around to her back.

The shorter, more muscular man, hands still frozen mid-seal, watched as blood slowly soaked the violet fabric around the pink-haired girl's waist as she slowly dragged her feet. She was trying to edge herself backwards, closer to the river, but the blood and chakra loss was obviously taking its toll. His fallen subordinate had done well.

"Kunoichi," he addressed her coldly, "where is the criminal you helped to escape?"

Much to the Rock Nin's surprise, she didn't respond with the expected sneer. Nor did she insist that she was innocent.

"He's no criminal," Sakura panted. "Do you have any idea what he and his family have sacrificed for our villages?"

Before either of the Iwa shinobi had a chance to scoff, the pinkette released her four shuriken and ducked under them as they flew through the air. The head ninja's eyes were preoccupied with the whirling pieces of steel and barely saw Sakura as she sprung forward to engage him in hand-to-hand combat. Her taijutsu skill took him by surprise and he nearly took several barrages to the face from her chakra-enflamed fists. The man jumped backwards to avoid having her shatter his defensive forearms.

Once she realized that her attacks had missed, Sakura retreated, only to end up having to duck the swipe of the taller shinobi's katana.

It seemed that her speed was already suffering.

The water-style shinobi caught her by surprise as she dodged his subordinate, and his leg shook from the force of his roundhouse kick, the vibration of his boot connecting with the young woman's head traveling up his femur.

Sakura collapsed ten feet away in a misshapen heap.

The water user smirked.

With a groan, the pinkette shifted a hand to cradle her head.

He frowned.

Of all things, she was getting up. She couldn't _possibly_ manage to evade them any longer.

Her taijutsu attacks had been a last-ditch attempt at taking either he or one of his men out, and now her chakra reserves were dangerously low. But, spirited as ever, Sakura picked herself up, forced her beaten body to stand, and resumed backing away from her ruthless enemies.

"I'll ask you again, _kunoichi,_" the man spat her title as if she was undeserving of the very word. "Where is he?"

Casting a brief glance over her shoulder, Sakura continued stepping backwards. The entire slope of her back was warm and wet with her blood. The pestering sting at her hairline and the crusty feeling of a drying wound confirmed her suspicion that she had indeed lost her hitai-ate during the explosion. Her arms and legs felt like pillars of lead.

She spoke the words that many before her had also uttered.

"I would never betray a comrade," and she threw herself into the river.

"_Shit!"_ the katana-wielding Rock Nin ran towards the edge of the steep hill, his superior following closely behind. He turned to the water user, "What should we do, taichou?"

"She's low on chakra, so she'll most likely follow the current," he observed the large, winding trail of silvery liquid that continued on through the cliffs and into the trees, "Fujita-sama will be pissed if we lose her and the prisoner," he fetched a kunai from the pouch at his hip and headed down towards the river, signaling for his subordinate to follow him, "Hayate and Akio will meet up with us with news of the Uchiha's whereabouts. Until then, Kiro, we'll just have to follow this little kunoichi."

"Do you think she's a Missing Nin?" the tall man named Kiro looked down at his captain. "Like the prisoner?"

The water user shook his head, "It doesn't matter. But we can't let word get to the Tsuchikage that we went through with the unauthorized incarceration of a war prisoner. If that happens, he'll shut Fujita-sama's prison down, and we'll be out of a job."

The two men continued down the riverbank, eager to catch up with the evasive kunoichi before nightfall.

* * *

With a violent cough, Sakura broke through the surface of the water and began taking in sputtering breaths of air. It was only pure adrenaline that was keeping her moving. Nevertheless, she was beyond thankful that the tall ninja with the katana would no longer be able to summon Ninken to track her any time soon, and for the rushing current that was making up for her lack of speed.

But the water was as freezing as hell was scorching.

She wondered how her friends were doing. About Naruto. He would be so worried about his "Sakura-chan" if he knew that she was suspended helplessly in the middle of a river, cold, bleeding, chakra reserves almost completely drained, and abandoned by their stoic, turmoil-ridden ex-teammate. _Again._

The pinkette's teeth chattered, and she wished she had enough chakra left to circulate warmth throughout her system, but evening was fast approaching and the Iwa air was only growing colder and colder.

In the midst of her reverie, the young medic found herself sinking beneath the chilling surface.

_Kami, it's cold._

Her lungs grew frigid as she inadvertently swallowed river water, and she lunged back to the surface with a weak kick of her legs.

_I can't die here,_ Sakura thought weakly to herself, _I can't. Sasuke's still out there. He still won't come home. Naruto and I—we have to keep our promises to each other. So this _can't _be it._

Feeling her body growing number—from both the cold and the easily recognizable symptoms of an Iwa-made poison—Sakura reached out blindly. Her shaking hands, one carved up by shrapnel and the other pale from the chill, found purchase upon a liquid-slickened boulder. The current nearly wrenched her away from the bank but she held on for dear life, eyes shut weakly, warm tears of finality leaking unbidden from the corners of her eyelids.

When she opened her glassy green eyes, she could see the fading amber glow of the sun as it escaped to find solace behind the shelter of the trees and snow-capped mountain peaks in the far off distance of snow country. Even beyond the strange hills of the Land of Iron . . .

And beyond that was Konoha, with its always green terrain and the bustling streets filled with people that would forever remain naively ignorant to the violence of the world. Of the pain of those who truly suffered. Because in truth, the young kunoichi knew that people had suffered as much as she was right now and a million times over. Many of them were her dearest friends. And even friends that were lost to her because of that very suffering.

She attempted to stand, though she knew it was futile. The swarming flood of four approaching chakra signatures was already teasing at her faulty, toxin-blinded senses. Her knees shook as she tried to step from the water.

Vision tunneling drastically until the sky became the earth, and all sense of time and location turned irrelevant, Sakura collapsed and tried in vain to grip onto the slippery boulders framing the riverbank.

Her ears were still buzzing from the merciless kick to the head. She quite possibly had a concussion. Sakura found herself thinking what a shame it was that despite being able to see the river she was nearly submerged in, she was not able to hear the soft bubbling sound of the rushing liquid as it meandered over the rocks and rushed coolly over her body, the welcomed chill dulling the pain of her extensive injuries and chakra-exhaustion.

With a painful _pop_ Sakura's eardrums stilled the incessant ringing and began to reverberate the sounds around her clearly—almost too clearly. Her emerald eyes dulled and fell shut against the sudden onslaught of sounds. Consciousness fading.

"Looks like she didn't get far, taichou," she recognized the gruff voice of the katana wielder Kiro directly above her. Her ears observed the foreboding sound of a metal weapon being drawn from a scabbard.

Through the slits of her eyes, she saw blood splatter across her arms that were just barely anchoring her body to the shore. The stench of death and iron rose into her nostrils.

_Is that my blood? _she wondered blearily, _That's funny . . . _

_I always thought death would be so much more painful._

Her head lolled to the side and snatched her verdant gaze away from her crimson speckled skin, until all she could see was the bubbling water all around her. She was losing consciousness with every tired blink of her eyes. The sound of roaring thunder echoed around her rapidly darkening world.

The silvery surface of the river seemed mystically fascinating under the forest eaves.

_How pretty . . ._

The pinkette's delirious mind was filled with fleeting, fluttery thoughts of how sparkly the water was under the harsh rays of the setting sun, as the dancing glares comingled with a red wash of her blood . . .

. . . almost like the artwork she had painted as a young, carefree girl in the academy . . .

It appeared almost as if sky-blue lilies were blooming delicately on the surface—no, the shining blue water looked more like a reflection of stormy skies, static with clouds and the beautiful, forever-changing patterns of lightning dancing like windswept tree branches on the horizon.

She heard several agonizing screams.

And then the terrible, nostalgic scream of a thousand birds.

* * *

**A/N: Lightning! Lightning!**

**I am so unbelievably excited right now!**

**Much warm gratitude for reading. Thank you, thank you, thank you; words just cannot begin to express my appreciation.**

**What did you think of the ending?**

**I would love it if you reviewed!**


	5. Sanguine

_**The Atrophy and Redemption of Uchiha Sasuke**_

_Chapter Four: Sanguine_

* * *

Eyes wide in horror at the sight of his three dead comrades lying lifeless on the river stones, the prison guard dropped his katana.

Blood dripped from his mouth as he watched the disheveled young man standing before him wrench his hand out from within the inner cavity of the guard's chest, vibrant bolts of lightning dancing up and down his bruised arm.

The guard was enveloped in the chilling arms of death before he even hit the ground.

Sasuke stared at his blood-enveloped hand. The crimson liquid covered his skin's pallor like calligraphy ink brushed onto the surface of a pristine white scroll. A brief memory from the archives of years long forgotten resurfaced, and the Uchiha found himself submerged in the past, lingering in the times of when he used to sit on the bamboo engawa outside his clan's library and practice his kanji with sloppy, inexperienced strokes of the traditional brush.

He remembered eight-year-old Itachi coming to silently sit beside him after returning from the academy or an important clan meeting. The heir would gently take the brush from his little brother's stubby fingers and write characters for Sasuke to copy. More than likely, the older Uchiha had always ended up finishing the assignments for the toddler, so that their father wouldn't punish Sasuke for his happy but distracted dawdling.

They must have gone through thousands of scrolls together, sitting in comfortable silence, enjoying the other's company and listening to the sounds of nature echo like siren calls in the Uchiha courtyard.

It was strange and unfair. Strange that the earliest memories of Sasuke's childhood were gradually beginning to return from the depths of his mind; _Unfair_ that it was only happening now, after Itachi was gone forever.

The dark-haired shinobi dropped his hand to his side. Cold wind stung the still injured skin of his bare torso.

Sick laughter smoldered within his chest, and his eyes slowly began shifting from deep sanguine to ebony, perusing the image of death lying on the ground at his feet. Managing to tighten the already fragile grip on his sanity, Sasuke moved weakly towards the riverbank and—after much agonizing contemplation—scooped his female ex-teammate up into his arms. He saw that she was completely unconscious, limbs dangling without control and skin a sickly hue undoubtedly because of blood loss.

Stupid girl.

His body was failing him. It had taken several days of sitting in that Kami-forsaken cell to store up the chakra necessary to escape; he was tired, just _so tired of everything._

Looking down absently at the relaxed body in his grasp, Sasuke decided that it would be in their best interests to seek out medical attention. He straightened, ignoring the searing pain that seemed to monopolize every sinew of his body, and surveyed the terrain.

His resolve strengthened. He knew of a retired medic that lived in these borderline Iwagakure mountains, a quiet, elderly man that knew how to keep secrets.

With one last look at Sakura and her obscenely pink hair, the Uchiha turned according to his honed, internalized shinobi compass and headed deeper into the mountains.

* * *

Sasuke watched with his piercing black gaze pinned upon the softly glowing hands of the elderly man, whose wrinkled fingers pressed tendrils of healing chakra into the unconscious kunoichi's shredded back. His traditional, cotton kimono sleeves were tied up, revealing the minute shaking of his arms. There was a searing and unspoken understanding that had settled about the secluded room; if the pinkette died, the old man would then die by the hand of the young missing nin.

And as Sasuke crouched by the futon and observed the healing taking place, a sense of protectiveness he thought he had long abandoned kept him by Sakura's side. He was tired beyond belief, but the unbidden onslaught of carefully concealed worry would not allow him a moment's rest, despite the old medic's offer of the unused guest room.

He'd had absolutely no intention to come back for her; he thought Sakura would have fled once she saw that he was gone, but no. Instead, she decided to get involved in his business and nearly got herself killed in the process. In retrospect, perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised when, collapsed and trying to cope with the agony of his still fresh wounds, he heard the earth shake from within his forested genjutsu hiding place.

And then there was the rage. It had been beyond his control, a sense of utter anger he had not experienced since after the war.

Seeing those four guards completely prepared to bring Sakura's demise . . . to end her so easily, just like that . . .

With a jerk Sasuke sat up straight and instantly began analyzing the state of his surroundings, from the occupants of the tiny room and down to the muted sounds and smells both within the entire house and beyond its walls. Precarious winds slammed against the wooden paneling and sent a chill into the room. It was then that Sasuke saw the old man kneeling, attempting to start a fire with shaking hands. The stoic Uchiha almost offered to assist with a small katon, but reconsidered once he comprehended the extent of his exhaustion.

He looked down at Sakura with critical eyes.

Profuse sweat covered her skin and emphasized the bothersome pallor of her complexion. The sweaty pink strands of her hair lay tangled like a spider web across the almost beige futon. With a whimper, her brow furrowed violently and she began to thrash as more sweat beaded upon her skin, and dripped into her hairline or down her face. The old medic was at her side in an instant, placing his hand on her large forehead and filtering—what Sasuke found himself hoping was cold—medical chakra into the young woman's head. A pulse of unidentifiable ache flooded Sasuke's chest until he smothered the unwanted feeling with a skilled and much-practiced accuracy.

The Uchiha's eyes narrowed.

His female ex-teammate was a fool, he decided. She was a fool for hoping, for hoping and being so annoyingly persistent, just like the dobe. It was her own fault for being so reckless and showing up at that hell of a prison unprepared, utterly alone, and armed with no other arsenal besides a few kunai and her annoying, unfailing wishful thinking.

Tired and weary in spirit as well as in body, Sasuke let his eyes drop shut once the elderly man retired to his own room and left the two young shinobi alone in the makeshift clinic.

What had she expected him to do?

Had she naively believed that he would forget the past and return to a village that hid memories and symbols of treachery at every turn and every view? Such optimism was characteristic of Naruto, but Sakura had been . . . _victim_ of certain actions—by his very hand—that were in a sense unforgivable.

He couldn't understand it: Her loyalty. Her belief in the young, secretly vulnerable boy she claimed to love more than anything in the entirety of her then limited world.

Now that she had seen him at his lowest and most reprehensible, what did she think of him? Sakura made him confused; Sasuke absolutely abhorred that sense of not knowing.

And so he shrugged on the faded blue shirt the old man had lent him, which was entirely too tight—in contrast to the much too lose pants he'd already donned earlier—and propped himself up against the wall nearest the futon.

He instinctively found a position that irritated his wounds the least; his previous demands to the old man had been focused on Sakura's more urgent injuries, so his own half-healed ones had gone untreated.

With one last lazy glance at the young medic now sleeping peacefully on her stomach, Sasuke let his eyes slip shut, absently noticing that his hand reflexively went to settle upon the hilt of the prized Kusanagi no longer his possession.

He was deeply asleep within seconds.

* * *

Sakura awoke to the sound of running water.

With her head pounding, she first noticed that tight, almost stretched feeling of newly healed skin covering the majority of her back, although it did little to quell the stinging sensation running up and down the length of her spine. She groaned. Her ears were the most alert, observing the sound of muffled water splashing onto the ground; she opened her eyes, fully expecting to be blinded by sunlight, yet found that the entirety of the room was darkened. A small row of cheaply crafted candles sat next to a dead fire-pit and provided the atmosphere with a dim glow.

The pinkette moved her head so that she could see the other side of the room. Besides the sound of water coming from elsewhere inside the quaint house, the only noise was that of the wind screaming outside.

She smelt the air and knew they were still near Iwagakure.

To her left a shoji screen scraped open across the bamboo floor. Verdant eyes wide and filled with panic, Sakura moved so that the majority of her weight shifted from her stomach and onto her forearms; her heavily knotted hair brushed her bare shoulders as she turned her head to face the intruder, and it was then she realized that besides the bandages circling her upper abdomen, she was half naked.

With a gasp she wrenched the kakebuton comforter forwards and pulled it around her bare torso. She was suddenly very thankful that whoever brought her here had positioned her on her front, assumedly both to spare the lacerated skin of her back and preserve her modesty. The fabric of the comforter felt foreign in her hands and the futon thin beneath her body; it was common for most people in Konoha and other villages like it to sleep on thicker and higher beds. Sakura realized that she must be staying in one of the more ancient villages hidden in the mountains of Iwa, vague memories of learning about these villages in the academy slowly coming back to the forefront of her sharp mind.

"Wha—" her cheeks flushed with mortification when she realized who was looking straight at her, "Sasuke-kun!"

He blinked.

Face remaining emotionless, he walked to the flameless fire pit and retrieved two small bags that the pinkette recognized to be her weapons and medical pouches. The Uchiha tossed them behind him without looking and they landed on the ground next to the futon where Sakura could reach for them.

She was beyond stunned by his presence, if not extremely overjoyed. Nevertheless, her eyes immediately took to scanning his body with clinical ease, taking stalk of his bruises and cuts and watching with hawk-like precision for any sign that he was in a great deal of pain. Seeing none, Sakura registered the fact that he must have just returned from purchasing new clothing; he was dressed in black, standard-issue shinobi pants and a commonplace dark shirt of basic design; however, his feet were still equipped with his same worn pair of boots.

Sakura watched him crouch down on the floor and examine the contents of a plain sack. Another blush rose to her face and she quickly looked away in consternate mortification before, against her better judgment, her emerald eyes wandered back to gaze at the stoic Uchiha's profile. Water dampened his ebony hair, dripping from the incredibly upturned ends of his locks, and running down the strong length of his neck to soak the dark fabric of his form-fitting, long-sleeved shirt. The pinkette mused that the splashing water from earlier must have been Sasuke washing a month's worth of grime and prison filth from his body.

Suddenly he was standing above her, his black eyes looking at almost everything in the room besides her weak and half-exposed form. His pale arm moved forward and dangled a small stack of colored fabric in front of Sakura's face.

"When you can, put these on," he said bluntly. His eyes held a gray tint she hadn't seen in a long, long time. It was as if he was there, present with her in this small room in some unknown location, but his mind was dwelling far away, in a place familiar only to Sasuke, his thoughts, and his memories.

Sakura wondered if she could ever be fortunate enough to be an important part of those very memories.

She reached for the proffered bundle of clothing and chanced a shy glance at Sasuke's face. Much to her surprise, his dark eyes were cast directly onto her; the pinkette felt as if she was burning under his inspection, but refused to look away—her own emerald eyes hungrily took in the sight of him, committing the addictive mystery of his gaze and every contour of his face to memory.

In reality, Sakura knew it was very possible that he would want to leave on is own again. He had already made a point of stressing his disdain for returning to Konoha and, despite everything, she could not find it within herself to blame him.

It was long ago that she had made a pact to herself—a promise to leave her selfishness behind, abandoned in the dust of her twelve-year-old past.

The young medic nervously wondered what Sasuke was thinking. His eyes looked contemplative, almost as if he was considering something. The seconds elapsed in painstaking silence, and Sakura almost thought he was going to speak his mind, until the silent Uchiha turned and shattered his eye contact with the pinkette.

Sakura's heart began furiously beating rebellion in her ribcage.

"Sasuke," she murmured, voice still raspy from her overwhelmed state of mind, "those guards . . . ?"

"Dead."

"O-Oh," was the only response she could manage.

And she needed no more explanation than that one word to create a vivid depiction of what occurred after she had lost consciousness on the riverbank's rocks.

"Young man?"

Both Sasuke and Sakura turned towards the sound of the hollow male voice.

"Hn," Sasuke reached into his pocket and removed a small stack of ryo. Sakura's eyes widened. Where on earth had he—

"No one knows," the Uchiha held out the currency and eyed the man carefully, as if he suspected him of notifying the local authorities of his presence as a missing nin.

The man nodded enthusiastically and closed his hand around the bills of ryo, eyes lighting up as if he had never seen so much money at one time in his life. After storing his payment into the sleeve of his simple kimono, the man exited the small room and returned with two bowls of rice, a serving tray of fresh fish, and a roll of medical bandages. Sasuke took the food and kneeled next to the futon.

"Miss?" Sakura's head snapped away from her ex-teammate and she craned her head back to look at the speaker, who was unwinding the roll of fresh gauze with his wrinkled and greatly tanned fingers. "If you please, I will change your bandages."

"Oh!" the pinkette smiled and attempted to turn onto her back and sit up, but the old medic placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder and stilled her movement. "Are you the medic that healed me?"

He gave a meek smile and nodded, hands already pulling back the sheets and unwinding the old bandages. Sakura quickly glanced back at Sasuke and found that he had his back to her and was facing the wall, bowl of rice and chopsticks in hand. She smiled despite the painful pang of familiarity beginning to resonate in her chest.

The old man gave a triumphant smile when he tucked the fresh end of bandages into the snug bind and helped the young medic sit up so that she could dress and enjoy her morning meal.

* * *

"I want to thank you for all of your help," Sakura gave the retired medic a disarming smile.

He nodded quietly in response as he gathered up the empty dishes; his tired brown eyes kept darting anxiously towards the farthest corner of the room, where the last Uchiha was settled and steadily sharpening his newly purchased weapons.

The pinkette shot him an apologetic look and helped him clean his small kitchen, "I would be willing to pay you for some medical supplies, Ojiisan. I've almost run out completely and I'll need some for the journey home."

He patted her reassuringly on the arm, and Sakura's heart warmed; his silver head only came up to the height of her ear, "No, no," he vaguely wove a hand in the direction of the room Sasuke was still occupying, "the young man already paid me. He said you would be needing supplies."

"H-He did?" her green eyes grew wide and she looked back towards the room in wonder, even though she couldn't even see the Uchiha from her position in the kitchen.

The old man nodded and guided her to his clinic's storage room.

"Sasuke-kun?"

The Uchiha turned to face his ex-teammate; his hands still worked to store and organize his new weapons and clothing into a summoning scroll. Sakura approached him, feeling unusually shy, and nervously shifted the medical supplies in the cradle of her arms.

"Thank you . . ." she murmured quietly, finding the courage to look into his eyes, "for this . . . and, and for . . ."

Sasuke nodded. The atmosphere was awkward but not uncomfortable as they both resumed packing. Neither of them spoke until he straightened and walked towards the window. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked on at the outside world. The winds had died down and ridges of the surrounding mountains could be seen beyond the cheap glass. Pale sunlight highlighted the angles of the young man's aristocratic face, greatly contrasting the pitch black hue of his unruly hair. Sakura found herself speechless and entranced by his appearance, not just because he was as handsome as always, but also because of the dullness in his affect.

He looked . . . defeated. As if he had nothing left in life. No goals, no ambition. The Uchiha had lived his life controlled by his hatred and compelled by his desire for vengeance.

And now he was left with nothing. Nothing except for his team, _if only_ he could see it. Sasuke should have known they would always be there for him, willing to accept him, willing to forget, willing to forgive all that they could not forget. But he was still hurting. He was unfulfilled; but no one could convince him otherwise besides himself. They could only hope to help him along the way.

He sighed quietly, "I will take you as far as Iwa's northern border."

"What? Why?" Sakura was awoken rather roughly from her reverie by words she definitely had _not_ wanted to hear.

"There is a platoon of Suna nin still stationed there. They will be returning to Sunagakure soon, and they will aid you in your journey back to Konoha."

He refused to turn from the window and look at her. Why wouldn't he look at her?

"Sasuke," Sakura said softly, as if she was trying to placate a rabid wolf, "Sasuke-kun, you'll be returning with me?"

He snorted halfheartedly, quickly growing annoyed at her persistence. She now had her response, and she was not happy.

"Where will you go?" she whispered, voice cracking under the weight of her tumultuous emotions.

Sasuke shifted his weight onto his right leg, unintentionally signaling to Sakura that he was still injured and uncomfortable from the pain.

He closed his eyes, "I intend to replace my Kusanagi in a village bordering Lightning. Afterwards," his eyes opened, traces of red swirling in their pitch depths until he seemed to control himself, and the orbs settle back into their stoic state of inky blackness, "I must find my brother's body."

Sakura gasped and regretted that she had asked in the first place.

Her fingers wrung painfully in front of her body in distress, mind calculating all possible combinations of words she could throw at him in her pleading attempts at convincing him to come back to Konoha. She didn't know why he had set forward such a goal, other than to give the Uchiha heir a proper burial deserving of a hero. If Sakura had learned anything about Sasuke by now, it was that he was tenacious in his intentions, and would always move to follow through, no matter the amount of pretty, desperate words she could conjure up and cry out.

Her shoulders slumped; she knew it was hopeless at this point.

"Alright, Sasuke-kun," the pinkette breathed.

Sasuke finally turned away from the window to look into her verdant eyes, as if he was surprised by the ease and finality with which she seemed to be giving into his decision.

She smiled sadly, "But I'm afraid you have no choice but to take me with you."

* * *

**A/N: **

**I decided to entitle this chapter "Sanguine" because of all the references I made to the color red, including the feelings it supposedly evokes. To me, Kishimoto's symbolism is equivalent to a plethora of crazy fun topics to address in fiction, and it's always so inspiring. Thank you very much for reading. You can expect a lot of Sasuke and Sakura interaction in the immediate future. The relationship between Itachi and Sasuke means a lot to me, which I accounted for in the opening piece.**

**Please review!**


	6. The Horror that is Manslaughter

_**The Atrophy and Redemption of Uchiha Sasuke**_

_Chapter Five: The Horror that is Manslaughter_

* * *

Sasuke's brow burrowed into a chilling glare, "_No,_ Sakura."

"I'm a medic," Sakura insisted. She stepped forward and the Uchiha grew annoyed at the determination in his ex-teammate's eyes. "You might end up needing me, Sasuke-kun."

"Tch," he scoffed under his breath, bangs covering his face in a disheveled disarray of black locks.

He remained quiet after that, as if he were contemplating her offer; somehow, however, Sakura doubted he would easily change his mind. He had always been unbelievably decisive, even when he was but a hurting, young boy in the academy. All those years felt like forever ago to the pinkette as she carefully watched Sasuke.

And when she saw him instinctively reach with one hand to rest it on the smooth hilt of his chokuto—only to meet empty air—Sakura's hurting heart reached out to him, to the carefree toddler who loved his brother and dreamt of beautifully trivial things; and to the conflicted twelve-year-old that used to stand, dreaming only of vengeance, and habitually slip his hands into the confines of his pockets.

"Sasuke-kun," Sakura realized with a jolt that she was suddenly beside him, also gazing out at the army of trees and mountains, "I can help you; I _swear._"

Her unspoken _I want to spend time with you_ hung pensively in the air between them until Sasuke finally turned from the window to regard her. His eyes were just so _dark_ and the pinkette found herself drowning.

Whatever he saw in her eyes—Sakura was unsure—made his own eyes harden, and he refocused his attention back to the window.

_I want to go with you._

How many times had she uttered those very words?

As the two ex-teammates stood side by side, looking out of the same window but seeing nothing, Sakura's memories reached back into the much-too-near past.

The sickening sensation of a strong hand crushing the column of her throat wasn't as distant a memory as Sakura hoped. That stunning fear. Fear in the knowledge that Sasuke, the young boy who used to shove his hands into the pockets of his pants and protect and defend those precious to him, had finally lost his mind.

Roused from her morbid thoughts, Sakura realized she had been focusing somewhere on Sasuke's collarbone. Her eyes darted upwards to see if he noticed, and instead she tensed upon seeing Sasuke's eyes pinned to her neck with an eerie stillness in their black depths. Then, all at once, the Uchiha redirected his gaze and looked away. Sakura kept her green eyes trained on him, neck craning backwards to try and catch his gaze again, "Sasuke-kun?"

For a while he said nothing. When he turned back towards the pinkette, his eyes were narrowed in compromise.

"Only as far as Lightning Country."

* * *

Sakura waved goodbye to the old medic, who stood several yards away in his nearby garden, tending to his tomato plants; Sasuke was already partway down the mountain and it took Sakura several chakra-laced strides to catch up with him. They had left at the first glimpse of the sun and avoided the dirt road that sloped down into the valley, instead opting to make their journey through the forest of trees, which weren't nearly as lush as those found in Konoha. However, they would have to serve as adequate cover.

Always the observant medic, Sakura watched Sasuke charge over the tree branches five feet ahead of her. She would admit that he was faking being uninjured very well, even more so, she mused, than Kakashi when he was bullshitting to defend his stupid, stubborn pride. The pinkette decided that both men had the same problem, and there was no way in hell that she would ever tolerate their egos.

Waves and waves of nostalgia were crashing into the pinkette, reminding her of the many genin missions she had been on with her team and of the times she settled for trailing behind them, the boys' backs being brazen before her. With a surge of chakra she sped forward and continued on, this time at Sasuke's side.

The Uchiha watched her suspiciously from the corner of his eye. Sakura ignored it and remained focused on the supporting branches ahead of her.

"You're hurt," she stated evenly.

Sasuke turned again to acknowledge her, expecting to see her pleading, bright eyes staring back at him. But, on the contrary, he was met with the profile of her pale skin and head of pink hair.

"Hn," he merely grunted and tried to mask the minute shaking present in his legs. In reality, his back and torso were burning like all hell, but his pride refused to show it.

His behavior stemmed far back into the roots of his upbringing in a noble clan and as the son of its patriarchal head. And Sakura knew this.

She sidled closer beside him as to get his attention and make him more aware of her than she knew he already must be—he was Sasuke after all, skills perfectly honed and a prodigy since birth.

"We need to stop soon," she murmured. Her eyes perused his form nervously with every springing step they took in sync off of the tree branches. Her brow furrowed as he continued to ignore her, and the tone of her voice came out more brashly than she intended. "Unless you don't mind being dead on the forest floor before we even reach Iwa's border."

A muscle clicked in Sasuke's jaw, a sign, Sakura knew, that she was dangerously close to trying his patience.

He spoke evenly, an underlying threat lacing each of the monotone words—except for the very last one, "Do not make me reconsider my decision, _Sakura_."

Her hands fisted tightly in fury behind her, "Sasuke, for _once _would you just admit th—"

All at once Sasuke's eyes widened and suddenly he flipped and crashed sideways into Sakura's petite form, arms roughly catching her around the waist. The impact flung them both roughly to the ground. Sakura cried out as her shoulder cracked and dislocated against a gnarled tree root protruding up from the rocky dirt.

Sasuke hurled her upwards by her wrist and pulled her into a tighter cluster of trees. Panting and attempting to regain her bearings, Sakura looked from the slender hand tightly encasing her arm to the tree where they had just been jumping from, which was now riddled with shuriken and kunai. Dazed, her verdant eyes snapped back to look at Sasuke in alarm, who was rapidly casting a genjutsu. The pinkette recognized the hand signs from her recent studies on illusions and relaxed under the realization that the enemy would not be able to see them.

"_Go,_" Sasuke motioned towards the thick maze of branches and leaves of the tree above them with a stern jerk of his head.

Had they not been hiding from the enemy, the young medic might have argued with the Uchiha, but she reached up without complaint and hid herself within the genjutsu-laden treetops.

Below her and about a kunai's throw away, a formidable number of shinobi cased the vicinity around her and Sasuke's abandoned path, dressed in standard Rock nin garb. They travelled almost soundlessly through the forestry and underneath Sasuke's genjutsu without any sign of suspicion.

The amount of weapons they brandished showed Sakura that they knew Sasuke's reputation, and they knew it well.

What she could not figure out was how they had even managed to get close enough to them to be within striking distance; she knew she had been too preoccupied worrying over Sasuke's stubborn-ass guise, but Sasuke's own state of distraction only served to prove that he was in pain.

And when she looked down to check on the Uchiha, all she saw were fallen leaves on the vacant ground.

"_Shit._"

* * *

Sasuke crouched low on a high tree branch that spanned at least twice the width of his shoulders.

One hand reached for the summoning seal on his opposite wrist guard. Even though he was unobserved by anyone, he braced himself against a pained wince. His movement, while graceful, was causing the still freshly healed gash across his torso to slowly reopen.

But rather than attempting to tend to his wounds, the Uchiha remained on his perch, predatorily stalking the Iwa forces below and ignoring the coarse press of tree bark into his tender and broken skin. The dark tomoe in his eyes began to spin, swimming dizzily inside their pools of deep vermillion. He counted seven or eight Rock hunter nin and glared hatefully down upon their masked forms.

In the back of his mind, he hoped that his pink-haired companion would stay where she was . . . so that she would not have to see the bloodlust that exuded from his form in the midst of his killing intent. That same hatred had been aimed wrongfully at her once—several times, the raven-haired young man realized with a fleeting pang of shame—and she did _not_ deserve to be subjected to it ever again, not if he could help it.

The taunting protectiveness was back and burrowing into his chest, but Sasuke pushed it out of his mind and touched his middle and pointer finger to the summoning seal of his wristband.

An Iwa shinobi slowed slightly and fell behind the formation of his assassination team as they avidly pursued their two targets, who seemed to have disappeared from the tree line altogether. Paranoia welled sickeningly in the pool of his stomach; nevertheless, he slowed his pace briefly and reached for the water canteen strapped at his waist.

He did not even register the slice of the kunai when it struck and completely severed his spinal cord. And he was dead before he even unscrewed the canteen cap.

By the time the hunter nin's captain realized that several of his men had lagged considerably behind, only to disappear altogether, less than half of his entire team remained. He motioned to his panicking men to be on the alert, glad for the mask that was hiding his own expression of unease.

"Prepare to move out. Be Cautious. And remember; there are two o—"

He flipped backwards on instinct as a flash of ebony crossed his vision. The last three of his men rallied around him and circled quickly with their weapons drawn. The towering trees blocked out the sun's rays; darkness covered the rocky ground in uneven patches, spider-webbed and interwoven with straggling traces of light.

And with an eerie flourish of movement-induced breeze, their target found _them._

He hung upside-down like a bat out of hell before them, feet anchored with chakra to the compact tree limb overhead. Strands of long black hair hung messily from his head, and his eyes were alive with pure abhorrence that he did not even attempt to hide.

Sasuke watched the four ninja as they backed away from his hanging form uncertainly. Their obvious elite status brought him to believe that they would not cower, but they were beholding him with less courage than he expected.

A droll smirk embraced his dry lips.

And one of the younger hunter nin—it was painfully evident that he had much less experience—nearly dropped his sword. The man who appeared to be the leader shot the younger Iwa nin a warning glare and spoke in a low voice, never once taking his eyes from the young man they were ordered to murder on site.

"Split up and find the woman."

Sasuke tensed upon hearing the words, and suddenly he threw his weapon of a body into the offensive, flipping down like a blur from his position to land on the forest floor with a disturbingly silent _thud. _Ignoring the blood as it left his brain and dispersed, driven by pure, high-inducing adrenaline, throughout the rest of his body, the Uchiha attacked without any semblance of mercy.

The sound of his fuma shuriken slicing through the air was the last he heard before his vision was overtaken by a redness that had nothing to do with his bloodline limit.

* * *

Sakura sighed.

She shifted grumpily and flicked a grasshopper from her shoulder, mumbling expletives about certain geniuses with egos the size of the entire freaking Kage Mountain. But underneath her annoyance and infamous temper, the pinkette was worrying herself crazy.

Nearly ten minutes had passed since Sasuke decided to disappear _again_ and leave her to her own devices. Sakura cursed her propensity to so easily become a completely nervous wreck. With Sasuke's tenacious impulses to fight, combined with Naruto, Kakashi, and Sai's antics, she swore all her rosy locks would turn a stark white before she even reached eighteen.

Her emerald eyes narrowed, staring into the equally green foliage surrounding her hiding place.

_He'd better not be fighting all those shinobi alone, _she grumbled silently to herself.

Just as Sakura was beginning to convince herself that Sasuke would not dare be that foolhardy in his questionable condition, she felt the air around her crackle under the influence of his flaring, ominous chakra.

"Dammit, Sasuke," the medic vaulted to her feet in alarm, the sudden disturbance causing a cloud of multi-colored leaves to dislodge and flutter to and fro to the dirt.

She leaped to the ground, using the momentum of her landing to throw herself into a high-paced sprint towards the source of her ex-teammate's spiked chakra signature. He was just so unbelievably _stubborn. _Infuriatingly stubborn.

Sakura knew he had replenished his chakra somewhat during the night, when she herself had been overtaken by the realms of delirious sleep, but there was no way the Uchiha was in any shape to perform his S-class ninjutsu. Especially if he was wielding the Sharingan like she knew he would be.

Her heartbeat was positively thundering, slamming against her ribcage with each urgent step. A thin branch snagged at her sleeve. It tore, but the sound did little to hinder her running.

The sounds of weapons clanging interrupted the kunoichi's heavy breathing and the thump of her shinobi boots; it grew louder still, until the battle came within view.

In all actuality, the sight was not much of any grandiose fight. Just as Sakura trampled through the trees, Sasuke broke the arm of the last remaining hunter nin with a sickening _snap._ A pained yowl mostly smothered by the Iwa black ops mask reverberated in and out of the forest, causing a group of small birds to scream and flee on the drafts above the green gradient of the tree line.

Sakura heard another sound of straining and cracking bone, but no scream followed afterwards.

"Sasuke-kun!"

The Uchiha tensed and slowly turned.

His arm went limp and he let go of the mangled body that had once belonged to the assassin team's capable captain. The pink-haired medic stared down at the twisted form slumped onto the forest floor like a grotesque blanket of flesh. Lightning burns visibly covered his graying skin in a cascade of ugly, discolored patterns and lesions, the signature of lighting-based jutsu. His eyes were wide in horror despite their vision not registering anything at all, the veins swollen and an angry red.

Sasuke had broken his neck.

The raven-haired ex-missing nin looked completely aghast. Streams of blood ran down in crimson rivulets over his shaking, alabaster hands. With a sudden, violent wretch, the Uchiha doubled over, hacking and coughing as if he himself were the one on the brink of dying.

"Sasuke-kun," Sakura grabbed onto the Uchiha as he stumbled away from the stench of blood and death that had been brought upon the forest clearing by his own hand.

Then she saw the blood. It was more widespread than average blood spatter, seeping out from underneath Sasuke's shirt and turning the fabric darker than black. She hooked one arm under his and helped him back to his feet. His head was beginning to loll slowly from side to side, his onyx eyes growing bleary as he slipped in and out of consciousness.

The red essence was seeping from his body and soaking through the pinkette's shirt, but she paid no mind, placing a dirt and blood-stained hand onto Sasuke's cheek and coaxing him to look at her and keep his eyes open. He blinked heavily and allowed his head to settle onto Sakura's shoulder, much to her surprise. Placing a hand glowing soft green with healing chakra onto Sasuke's abdomen, she was suddenly grateful that she had not been present to assist Sasuke in battle, which would have undoubtedly forced her to use up a substantial amount of chakra.

He looked so young and tired with his head resting on her shoulder. His soft hair—more coarse and unkempt than it had been when they were twelve, but still noticeably soft—tickled against her cheek and under her chin, and the young medic berated herself for feeling flustered at his closeness.

Once the heavy bleeding had adequately ceased its flow, Sakura readjusted her cramping arm around the nearly unconscious Uchiha and dispersed the smallest amount of chakra into her limbs necessary to travel, while carrying both her and Sasuke's combined weight.

"You and your _stupid_ pride," she grumbled against the side of Sasuke's head.

He was only able to respond with a weak "Hn," before losing all consciousness once again. His breath was soft and warm against her neck.

* * *

Panting, Sakura dropped to her knees. With a gasp she reached out urgently and cradled her arms around Sasuke's head as his limp body collapsed down next to her. She adjusted his positioning as he rested against her, and keenly began observing their surroundings. A chilling breeze swept into the forest and lifted the underbelly of the outreaching branches, rattling the foundation of the makeshift rooftop of leaves. The eerie roaring sent a shiver down the pinkette's spine.

She sighed in resignation and placed a healing hand on Sasuke's forehead. As she peered through the darkness at his peaceful face, emerald eyes tired and straining, her rosette hair spiraled around her face in sweat-dampened wisps. In the back of her mind, she vaguely remembered that she had not had a proper shower since leaving Konoha on her medical solo mission.

With a flare of stubborn determination, she threw her head back and stared into the black sky that could be seen through the frame-like, crisscrossing puzzle of interlocked tree branches.

_Naruto, Kaka-sensei . . . _

_I've no clue what it is you're doing right now. . . . _

_Would you believe that I've found him, our teammate? I've found Sasuke-kun and—and he needs help. Why can't you be here? _

_I don't know what to do._

Her deep verdant eyes glowed like the richest jade beneath the glare of the large moon. They darted back to the Uchiha, whose head rested upon her quivering lap, when he shifted restlessly in his sleep. She ceased her flow of healing chakra and capped it to the best of her ability, which was not very difficult.

Her tired mind could not even begin to enumerate the number of miles she had blindly sprinted in an effort to get as far away from the massacred enemy's bodies as possible. She was exhausted and she pondered that it was probably best to smother her chakra in case they were still being hunted. With a groan, she settled herself back against a large tree trunk, the winding roots of which provided excellent disguise and shelter on the darkening forest floor.

Her shaky arms reached out and pulled Sasuke up with her. Heart warming with every moment her gaze remained trained on him, she tried to keep him comfortable and ran her fingers repeatedly through his hair. The heat of his resting body gave her purchase from the cold, the surprising searing sensation crawling up through the tendons of her own smaller, lithe body.

"I guess we have to stay here tonight, Sasuke-kun."

The only response she received was silence and the scream of the gusting breeze.

The tired young medic cautiously let her head fall against Sasuke's, hand resting protectively over his firm abdomen. The black fabric covering his stomach was still damp with his blood, but Sakura could not find it within herself to be bothered in the least by the stains on her hands. She only wished that she had more bandages to offer; her medic's pouch had fallen open during her race through the woods and she did not dare return to find it.

Sasuke's smell—a heady, masculine scent that was unbelievably nostalgic to the pinkette's senses—filled her nostrils as she breathed in deeply, reveling in his closeness. Nevertheless, her worry and guilt still remained dominant throughout her weary mind. Part of her hoped that she would wake long before he did, if only to spare herself the pain of being pushed away coldly in a dismissive action she was certain the Uchiha would take, upon waking up and finding her limbs wrapped around him so securely.

The comforting smell and the feeling of Sasuke's body resting lax against hers slowly began to drag the young kunoichi underneath the cresting waves of sleep.

Just as her heavy eyelids began to drop shut, a snap—made frighteningly loud by the smothering silence—echoed through the trees. Sakura's eyes shot open, and she tightened her arms protectively around her slumbering ex-teammate. Fear and adrenaline coursed through her veins, each battling violently for dominance.

Someone was there.

And that someone was watching them from within the shadowy depths of the tightly clustered trees.

Her head swiveled slowly as she surveyed the darkened terrain. The pitch blackness of the early night would have completely choked her senses, had she not been a seasoned shinobi.

A shuffling sound, louder than the initial snap, came from the left of the two resting ninja.

Suddenly, a foreign chakra signature drifted into Sakura's senses, and the coil of adrenaline-induced tension unwound until she was completely relaxed yet again.

Sighing deeply in her chest, she rolled her moonlit green eyes in relieved exasperation.

"Why don't you just stop hiding and show yourself, Sai?"

* * *

**A/N:**

**I am **_**so**_** terribly sorry about the late update! To try and make amends, I made this one chapter a lot longer than I originally intended, and the only other apology I can provide you with is one of Kakashi's ridiculous late excuses; **_**you**_** can go ahead and choose which one!**

**I hope you thoroughly enjoyed this chapter. In retrospect, I really wanted to do justice to Sasuke's assassinating prowess (seriously, I think he would be scarily good at it) and emphasize the fact that he's still a bit sick in the head. I mean, I wouldn't blame him, considering the extent of all the terrible things he's been through. This was basically meant to reestablish the reality of Sasuke's fall to Sakura because I want to gradually develop her as well, alongside Sasuke. **

**I just love Sai. Are you glad he's making an appearance? Did you like the SasuSaku interaction (haha, even if Sasuke was mostly unconscious)?**

**By the way, I am working on quite a lengthy SasuSaku oneshot at the moment and it should be up in a few days. It is entitled, "Ambushed," and it is also slightly more . . . **_**raunchy**_** than any of my other current stories. Are any of you uncomfortable with more explicit writing? If not, please be sure to keep an eye out for it!**

**I would very much appreciate your feedback. And thank you, thank you for reading!**

**Please, do review!**


	7. The Visitor and Always

_**The Atrophy and Redemption of Uchiha Sasuke**_

_ Chapter Six: The Visitor and "Always" _

* * *

Several tense seconds passed in uncertain silence.

Then a single shinobi boot made itself visible as it passed from the dark shadow of the converging trees and into the pale moonlight cast in uneven patterns over the patches of grass and rocky ground.

The standard, open-toed boot was followed by the panther-like movement of the ex-ROOT member that Sakura had gotten to know very well over the course of the past years. He was dressed in his usual garb of dark nin pants and the leather top that always exposed a great amount of pale and muscular midriff.

The reclining pinkette grinned in recognition, emerald eyes lighting up drastically.

And the visitor's eyes nearly closed entirely, as his trademark, default smile sprouted onto his face; his brows, however, became pinched with worry as he suspiciously observed the unconscious body leaning against his female teammate.

"Hello, hag."

A muscle twitched near Sakura's temple and she was sure that if it weren't for the limp body of the Uchiha, she would have pummeled Sai by now. Looking back into the shadows Sai had come from, Sakura wearily began to wonder, "Why are you here?"

The pale ANBU smiled again and crouched on the ground to settle more comfortably onto his haunches, "Tsunade-sama was worried when you didn't report back from your mission. She intended to dispatch a search team."

"An entire team?" the pinkette sighed, "Then where are the others?"

Sai shook his head, "No others."

His dark eyes slid to the side, the only sign that he was feeling bothered, even guilty, "The elders were suspicious, and they refused."

Sakura's eyes narrowed in suspicion—not towards Sai, however. She trusted the inept young man, for all his lack of social graces and his propensity to choose incredibly insensitive nicknames. It was the elders, the old fools that always managed to spike her blood pressure, that had the honor of being on the receiving end of her fury.

"How did you find us? Do the elders know?"

Another smile, this one more genuine and—dare Sakura say it—almost cheeky, appeared on Sai's face, "I decided to be reckless like Dickless."

Surprised, Sakura released a coarse laugh, but paused abruptly when the noise caused Sasuke to begin shifting restlessly in his sleep.

She shuffled closer and continued in a hushed whisper, "What?"

The tight grin widened further, "As far as anyone in the village knows, except Kakashi-senpai, I am on a recon mission in Sunagakure. I tracked you from the inn where you encountered Fujita."

The pinkette's eyes widened in understanding, arms subtly drawing Sasuke's slumped form closer to her own; it seemed like nearly everyone in the entire world was against the Uchiha finding peace.

_Including himself,_ Sakura thought, crestfallen.

Sai noticed her expression, but mustered the tact to keep his comments to himself. Instead, he came closer and sat down before her and the unconscious missing nin, "There will be trouble," his face sobered, growing very serious in countenance, "I came to warn you," he paused for a moment of contemplation and then decided to add, as somewhat of an afterthought. "And Traitor-kun."

Sakura flinched at the name he had oh-so-graciously bestowed upon Sasuke, but it dwindled in comparison to the shock of Sai's first words.

Gently, very gently, she shifted away from her sleeping ex-teammate and settled his head down onto the grass. She watched cautiously as his head shifted in a slow loll to the side. Satisfied that he was comfortable, the green-eyed medic rose. The nerves in her legs tingled as their numbness was negated by her movement.

"What trouble, Sai?" she approached him and in turn, he stood to meet her, "What in the _hell_ is going on?"

Sai's coal eyes drifted to cast briefly over Sasuke, "The elders are furious; they heard that he survived, and that he escaped from prison. It was Kakashi-senpai that knew where you most likely were. He though it would be less suspicious if I came to find you in his place."

The young medic's eyes widened at the mention of her sensei's foresight, "How?"

She could hardly picture her lazy team leader, with his hard-ass penchant for being upstanding, slinking through the elders' quarters in search of information—essentially breaking the law on her and Sasuke's behalf.

Then again, he _was_ their sensei and, in a sense, still responsible for them. Even though it was mostly unspoken between the young shinobi and their jounin mentor, it was a silent understanding that Copy-Ninja Kakashi cared implicitly for his reinstated team.

And that included the wayward prodigy that so happened to wield the same devastating lightning jutsu.

Taking in the sight of Sakura's bewildered expression and filing away brief observations on her reactions for later use, Sai frowned, "Kakashi-senpai thinks the elders knew Sasuke was incarcerated from the beginning—"

"And they did absolutely nothing about it," Sakura finished. Her hands fisted spasmodically as she began to pace back and forth in the clearing.

Sai nodded.

The sense of betrayal was overwhelming, and the pinkette found her patience growing thinner and thinner at the thought of the chaos the elders would raise over this, if only to protect their own asses before Naruto became Rokudaime. It was so blatantly a conspiracy, really.

And Haruno Sakura vowed to herself right then that she would personally make sure that those old fools would not get away with it.

But unbeknownst to her, the extent of their planned treachery was far deeper and even more disgusting than was already made evident.

She covered her large forehead with a pale, shaking hand and breathed out heavily, her shoulders stooping down in a dramatic slope, "I can't believe this."

Taking her exasperation as acceptance, Sai removed his short sword from his back and began making a fire to fight off the chill of the night's weather. Noticing the lack of dry plant material nearby, Sakura removed a kunai from the pouch at her leg and turned to walk deeper into the forest, mumbling to Sai that she would be back soon with wood as soon as she had cooled off.

Looking back on that hectic night, the pinkette realized that she should have known better than to leave an injured and irate Sasuke alone with his _charming_ "replacement."

* * *

Sai pulled a sketchbook and colored inks from his pack, which he always kept with the old, tattered book featuring him and his adoptive brother Shin.

The fire was pitiful against the surrounding darkness, but it would have to suffice until Sakura returned with better kindling.

His pale hand had just finished sketching the smooth outline of the moon when every other muscle in his body tensed like a bowstring.

Still crouched but springing to his feet, Sai dropped the book, grabbed his discarded sword, and somersaulted away from the small fire and behind the cover of the forestry.

Before the jounin was even able to safely conceal himself behind a broad tree, two kunai pierced through the white leaves of the abandoned sketchbook. When he looked into the emblazoned reflection of the fire on his weapon, Sai could visibly see that Sasuke was standing—leaning weakly—against the tree with the corkscrewing roots, three more kunai handled expertly in his grip.

Sai stepped away from his hiding place; he could see that Sasuke was extremely tired, but alert nevertheless.

The Uchiha's eyelids were heavy and the dark irises were not even trained on the invading ANBU he had just warned with his attacks.

Instead, he was focusing his gaze almost sightlessly to the side, on into the deepening forest with all its shadows and intimidating branches.

"Where is Sakura?" he rasped.

Eyeing the dark stain on the rogue shinobi's black shirt, Sai approached him and reached down to pluck the two blades from his papers.

He was, of course, well aware of the other raven-haired male, but did not feel threatened because Sasuke, in turn, did not find him threatening either; the fact that he did not activate his bloodline limit, regardless of his exhaustion, proved just as much.

"Hag is retrieving wood for this fire."

Sasuke narrowed his eyes and turned to look at the awkward Leaf nin for the first time that night, who merely smiled back in creepy benevolence. The Uchiha remained silent for a while and turned to peer into the forest once again, where he could sense the pinkette's light chakra.

With a slow gesture of his hand he lifted his shirt to inspect his healing abdomen.

The freshly healed wound was now a pink scar that was swollen. Swollen, but not jagged, the line of tender flesh was much more irritable than it should have been, due to infections from inside the prison and the constant opening and reopening of the deep laceration.

"Are you feeling quite well, Traitor-kun?"

Sasuke glared at the pale young man who, for all his perverted and tactless humor, looked stupidly, genuinely confused.

"Just fine," he hissed through gritted teeth. "I've been cut open and bleeding since the war, but I feel. Just. Fine."

Sai blinked, "Good. I am glad you are well, Traitor-kun. You do not seem to be as much of a shit-case as Dickless insists."

"Tch," Sasuke scoffed and pulled his shirt back down, taking note of how Sai's eyes followed the movement carefully.

A tick of annoyance caused a muscle in the Uchiha's jaw to twitch. He arched a brow angrily.

"I was under the impression, Sasuke, that you no longer believe in closed-collar shirts, seeing as you were always so eager to expose your bare chest to all onlookers, whether or not they may have been pedophiles."

Sasuke glared venomously at his replacement and tightened his fist dangerously around the kunai he still held in his hand.

Those open-collared, loose gi provided for extended movement, _dammit._ And this pale fool with his unexplainable urge to constantly air out his midriff had no right to talk.

It was at that moment that Sakura returned with an armful of hacked branches.

Shocked to see Sasuke conscious and Sai still alive, her green eyes perused the view before her for any sign of blood spatter. Seeing none, she loaded the kindling into the dying fire until it began to burst to life. Her palms grew sweaty and she wiped them against her dirty black shorts, looking nervously between the two young shinobi and preparing to convene in a fight if need be.

A cricket chirped twice.

"I see you're awake," Sakura murmured anxiously. "Are you in pain, Sasuke-kun?"

Sasuke opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by Sai, "Traitor-kun says he is just fine, Ugly."

The annoyed Uchiha flung the kunai and it embedded itself harshly into a burning log that rested within the fire. His shoulders were rising and falling much faster than usual, immediately striking worry within the young medic. But before she could approach the stoic missing nin, he stalked quickly towards the fire and Sai's sitting form.

"Leave," he commanded in a dull monotone.

"Sasuke—"

Sasuke ignored Sakura and continued glaring down at his replacement, "I want you gone. And take her with you."

"_No,_" Sakura snapped; she stomped over to the fire and looked between her teammate and ex-teammate, "I'm going on with you and into lightning, Sasuke-kun, and that's final. I'll only follow you if you try and get rid of me. I _will not_ be complacent this time; I won't just let you leave me behind again."

All three elite shinobi were silent for several moments as the kunoichi's impassioned words settled on the wind swirling around them. The tree branches above them roared as they partially shielded the ground below from the hammering gale.

A hawk screamed in the distance.

And there was no other option but for the conversation to take a sudden shift.

"Why are you here, ANBU."

The ink-user looked away from Sakura upon hearing the Uchiha's quiet inquiry, "I have information. The elders issued a bounty on your head, adding to your notoriety in the _Bingo Book_."

Sakura gasped, "They can't do that! Not without the Hokage's approval," she propped her hands on her hips in frustration. "_Dammit."_

With a nod in the pinkette's direction, Sai stood and turned to seriously look Sasuke in the eye, "They obviously want you killed regardless of your assistance at the end of the war. And I'm assuming you already know . . . about your brother's body."

Sasuke exhaled a violent breath and turned away to face the trees.

Sakura's brow furrowed, "Sasuke? Sasuke-kun, what is Sai talking about?"

The Uchiha paid her no mind and continued to watch the dark, gust-induced movements within the forest.

The pinkette began walking towards her ex-teammate, but was pulled back by Sai's grip on her arm. He turned her around to face him, "I need to return soon. Before Naruto-kun or the elders find out where I have been."

Sakura wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, "Thank you for warning us, Sai."

The ex-ROOT nin nodded and paused as if he were deep in thought.

Then, in an action that still shocked the pinkette whenever it happened, he placed a stiff arm around the kunoichi and patted her awkwardly on the back, "I will notify you if matters are urgent. Beware of hunter nin and missing nin;" he lowered his voice, "the bounty was very high."

Sakura nodded and swallowed the growing lump in her throat. She watched as Sai gathered his belongings. He recited a polite goodbye to Sasuke's back and retrieved his signature scroll and brush.

And with a flourish of his hand and a whispered jutsu, the pale ANBU was speeding through the night sky atop the back of his large ink bird.

Silence stretched out between the two companions left alone inside the forest with only the flickering glow of the fire to chase away the darkness.

Sakura's eyes for a long while became transfixed on the broad musculature of Sasuke's black-clad back. Her sharp medic eyes noticed the slight change in his usual breathing; he seemed to be heaving, struggling to control either himself or an impending emotional breakdown.

She was not sure which she feared the most.

He was still so unstable, and Sakura berated herself for being so foolish. For being foolish enough to believe that once she found him, he would willingly accompany her back to Konoha and adapt to life as it always had been.

But there was no simulation of the life they lived before. And too much damage had already been done. Too much had happened, and far too much of it was traumatizing and unforgettable.

The pinkette sighed, _Is it really so impossible, Sasuke-kun, for you to trust me. _

_To care. _

_To tell me anything, something?_

Apparently he thought so, in all his stubborn reservations.

_Must you always drive us away without fail?_ She fisted her hands discreetly, the force violently crumpling the violet fabric of her already slashed and stained shirt. In the back of her mind, she wondered exactly how long it had been since she had the luxury of bathing herself.

Sakura's jaw clenched.

It seemed to take every ounce of self-control not to explode and shriek and scream demands. Perhaps, if she was still a young and naïve girl, if she was still twelve years old, she would have resorted to doing just that.

Instead, she reclined onto the dirt and cool grass before the campfire, her face away from the night, and her back to her teammate.

_Ex_-teammate. It was painful, very painful to constantly be reminding herself of that very fact. Why was it that she—_they,_ she and Naruto—could never find it within themselves to let go? To just accept what had happened in the past—how tragedy made them fall apart—and put forth a sad attempt at moving on?

Sakura let loose a bitter laugh within her shielded mind._ Moving on._ Come to think of it, Sasuke was not very good at that task either.

Was this broken young man, a boy with a terrible, anguished past and a wanderer with an unsure future of only danger and bitterness, truly worth the struggle and loyal dedication?

Worth the pain? The constant pang of emptiness? The torment from outsiders that scornfully looked back upon the "sad and unfortunate" story of Team Seven with false and unwanted pity?

When Haruno Sakura closed her tired green eyes against the dancing fire, ears alarmingly attuned to the sound of the last Uchiha's breathing and his approaching footsteps, she immediately knew the answer, beyond any flicker of painful retrospective ponderings or doubt.

_Yes. Always yes._

* * *

**A/N:**

**And, thus, the plot begins . . .**

**I bow my head in shame before you, oh noble readers; many apologies for this chapter's lack of heart-racing content. You have no idea how much the last chapter zapped me of my strength; and if I were a ninja, I would most definitely be chakra-depleted. **

**However, it truly is necessary that I write chapters like this in order to balance out all the action and upcoming loving (I know that with Sasuke and Sakura's interaction right now, the possibilities of some passionate heart-to-heart seem unlikely, but the time will come, I assure you). **

**And, yes, I brought Itachi-sama's body back up. Several of you wonderfully attentive readers brought up some concerns and observations, but I've had this planned out for a while, so don't worry :)**

**This will continue to be an **_**extremely**_** important issue later on. Everything will be revealed soon (but don't expect a mystery to the extent of, say, Tobi-like proportions). **

**And if you love mature-themed SasuSaku and you have not yet read my new oneshot "Ambushed," please make sure you check it out and give it a read!**

**Please review! Each and every one unfailingly warms the cockles of my heart . . .**

**. . . Too much? But **_**seriously,**_** I'm overwhelmingly appreciative of all of you and would very much love your feedback!**


	8. Proximity

_**The Atrophy and Redemption of Uchiha Sasuke**_

_ Chapter Seven: Proximity _

* * *

Sunlight seeped coaxingly over the sleeping pinkette's hidden eyes. It warmed her chilled bones and skin in leaf-shaped rays of filtered beaming. The strong smell of sizzling fish filled her nostrils, causing her verdant eyes to finally drift open in search of the growing daylight.

And her vision was filled with the image of a broad back, clothed in a dusty black fabric darkened with dried blood. Startled, Sakura sleepily propped herself up and peeked over Sasuke's shoulder at the fire. Inside she was whispering a mantra over and over, thanking Kami that her ex-teammate had not attempted to leave in the middle of the night. But she kept her worry and relief to herself; it was better that way. Instead, the medic glared at the side of his face, noting how he sat so rigidly, spine impossibly straight and chin parallel to the ground even when he reached out to turn the fish as it hissed over the flames.

Sakura moved to sit beside him with nervous countenance radiating in the air about her, ". . . Good morning, Sasuke-kun."

He glanced at her from the corners of his ebony eyes and appraised her with a brief nod.

The pinkette allowed a weak smile to grace her now chapped lips.

A nod. That was . . . an improvement. After the adrenaline rush of the previous day, it was difficult for Sakura to fall comfortably back into a routine with the last Uchiha that was somehow _familiar._ Somehow resonant of the times when they used to amble around a morning fire as young genin during missions.

The pink-haired medic distractedly noticed the irregularity in Sasuke's breathing. His shoulders still rose and fell with a shakiness that was barely perceptible, but she knew that was of no consequence—anyone else would be openly rasping in pain, so Sakura refused to think of how much her companion truly was hurting.

She bit her lip and allowed her instinct to begin its marathon of obsessive worrying, _That fight yesterday can't have done his wound much good. . . ._ The troublesome thought cause all else to drown out in a muddled puddle, including the sounds of the forest, the delicious smell of the fish, and the extent of her own hunger.

Lost completely in thought, Sakura reached for the hem of Sasuke's shirt, only to have him stiffen and slide lithely from her grasp. Her eyes widened in embarrassment at his response, realizing the implications of what she had just done.

"Sorry!" the pinkette glanced up into his piercing glare. "I need to check your wound."

The harsh crease of his brow softened. She was blushing so endearingly, so earnestly and unlike the fake bashfulness she had displayed as a young girl, that the Uchiha had to harshly smother the rising tide of his confusion, turning away from her earnest green eyes.

But it was inevitable that Sasuke's suspicion slowly disappeared and was replaced by stoic consideration.

His eyes dropped from her hopeful face and focused on her pale hands, which quivered slightly, frozen in front of his chest. Finally, with another grand nod, he pushed her hands away—they had grown much rougher and more calloused since he last remembered touching them when she was twelve, Sasuke noticed—and wrenched the stiff, dirty shirt over his head.

He stalled slightly, erratic breath subtly increasing. Using his outstretched bicep as he continued pulling the clothing off, Sasuke concealed a wince when the movement shot pain throughout this upper abdomen.

His pale skin bore the healing gash like a garish birthmark, the irritated ridges glaring up at Sakura, inflamed and ugly. She bit her lip and her mind carefully divided her chakra reserves into mental groups. Deciding she had enough to spare, the pinkette placed one hand on Sasuke's shoulder.

"It's infected," she looked daringly into his eyes as she said it, voice trilling with undertones of worry that did not go unnoticed by the injured Uchiha. He was peering at her carefully. "If I don't take care of it now, it could spread into your organs."

He continued to watch her for a long time, deep black eyes sliding almost . . . almost _caressingly_—Sakura dismissed that thought as soon as it entered her hopeful mind—over her pleading face. They seemed to settle on her eyes the most, as if Sasuke was attempting to untangle any and all probable deceit from their emerald depths.

And so she refused to turn away, to give him any reason to withdraw whatever of his trust she held—no, _cradled_—within her willing, healing hands.

Sakura nearly jumped when his lips parted, "Make this quick. We leave for Kumogakure as soon as it's finished."

She nodded dumbly. She had it in mind to tell Sasuke that he would need rest after such a strenuous procedure, but questioned whether or not such advice would even change his mind.

_Of course it wouldn't,_ Sakura thought bitterly.

But for a while the young medic did nothing but watch her teammate expectantly. He quirked a brow in irritation.

"Um," Sakura cleared her throat. It took her most careful attempt to push down the heated blush crawling up her neck, "it-it might be best if you lay down, Sasuke-kun. Removing infection can be really painful. So it would probably hurt less if you . . . do that, lay down," she finished lamely.

Rather than settle completely onto his back, Sasuke reclined backwards until his body leant on his forearms. Defiantly ignoring his stare, Sakura clucked her tongue in frustration and tried not to stare at her ex-teammate's exposed torso any longer than was necessary—it was much more difficult a task than it should have been and Sakura mentally berated herself for her response.

He had always been sinfully attractive, almost by definition, and the pinkette was chagrined that he still affected her so.

Tearing her gaze away from her healing hands to steal a glance at Sasuke only proved her suspicions.

He was not even _trying._

His eyes were closed, rendering his face to appear completely vulnerable and at peace.

Nothing could be more deceptive.

A shiver threatened to wrack Sakura's body at the thought of what he was truly capable of. She swallowed in an attempt to rid her skin of the constricting sensation curling around her throat.

His contemplative pose made her wonder at his intentions. His plans, his goals.

She frowned.

It seemed like the last Uchiha always had a goal. Goals that consumed him until he had nothing left—nothing left to give, and nothing for _himself_. Could he even exist otherwise?

The pinkette's deep jade eyes took in the angles of every subtle muscle, the rise and fall of his lithe and pale chest. His dark eyes languidly drifted open.

_Dammit,_ Sakura started and snapped her eyes back to the sight of her healing chakra as it seeped into the wound.

* * *

Sasuke slipped his tattered shirt over his head and the dark fabric fell to his narrow hips, hiding his freshly healed wound and the bandages Sakura had torn from her medic's apron. It was a shame, she had decided; the apron, which Sasuke had purchased from the mountain village near the old medic's dwelling in Rock Country, had been so well-made.

She cast the petty thought from her mind with a shake of her pink head and followed Sasuke into the soaring tree line.

They fell back into the generic pattern of silence and branch leaping almost instantly. Keeping his gaze trained dutifully on the foliage ahead, Sasuke began to wonder what the hell he was thinking.

For a select instant, he enabled his thoughts to dwell drift-like in the past, which he had not allowed of himself unless the memories were of the more fond moments he had experienced with Itachi as a young boy.

His female ex-teammate was one who usually warranted very little consideration on his part. In a distant past that the Uchiha knew actually was not very distant at all, the pinkette had been the embodiment of a nuisance. He supposed there was a time when he considered the pink-haired adolescent an ally, a . . . friend. And the other title that now tasted foreign and wholly bitter on his tongue: a precious person. In his life he'd had so few, and so the sentiment, once felt—even fleetingly—was not so simply forgotten.

Sasuke squinted his daunting black eyes at a hawk that darted up from the treetops and just outside his line of vision.

The night he left Konoha behind for good was as hazy as the waning crescent moon that had appeared in the sky. He found himself questioning his sanity—of all things to recall of that monumental night, he most accurately remembered the moon.

The moon, its soft glowing beams . . . and the appealing way they glistened and shined upon her falling tears.

* * *

Hours passed like the rushing of the forest scenery, a collage of earthy branches and multitudes upon multitudes of leaves, all various gradients of deep green.

Sakura observantly surveyed the new terrain and took note of its gradual change from rocky forest ground to that of a lush, denser forestry. The crisp smell of dew and pine-like plants blew past her nostrils, the airiness lifting her rosette locks in waves. Rupturing the hum of silence and rushing air created by the two leaping shinobi, the crash of a towering waterfall echoed up and into the tree line.

The young medic had never traversed into these unfamiliar lands; however, a subtle glance at the side of Sasuke's face confirmed to the young woman that _he_ had. She refused to analyze the situation further, but the thoughts regarding Sasuke's experiences after leaving Konoha created a stony and chilled feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Her mind spinning through the lessons on geography she had sat through during her time at the academy, Sakura turned to face her stoic companion more fully.

"Are we approaching Takigakure, Sasuke-kun?"

His head tilted so that he could look at her from the corner of his eye. He seemed pleased at her observation and graced her with a confirming nod before retracting the chakra from the soles of his feet and dropping down through the tree branches.

Sakura followed closely behind and instantly began searching for the source of the waterfall sounds as soon as her boots touched grassy, almost marsh-like, ground. She and Sasuke ambled onwards until they emerged from the woods, the landscape laid out before them and glaring beneath the sunlight.

The pinkette breathed in deeply and smiled. She had read numerous medical scrolls about the small village of Takigakure and the mysterious country's numerous waterfalls, the sustenance of which fostered a large variety of medicinal herbs that the locals utilized as exports. The coveted medicine and small population ensured that the country remained mostly neutral in terms of ninja activity.

It was wonderful to behold a land so untouched by the fourth war.

They were greeted by the placating sight of the village, its faint noises echoing in a welcoming manner despite the heavy mists spiraling dizzily around the giant trees that encased the vicinity.

Sakura trekked leisurely along the muddy road, maintaining pace with Sasuke's no-nonsense gait, despite the constant swivel of her head as curious green eyes hungrily took in the sights of the strange country. The stoic Uchiha remained both indifferent and uninterested, but he humored his pink-haired companion's antics nonetheless and took the lead past the commonplace entrance gate and down an alley that wound, covert and seemingly insignificant, behind the sturdy Takigakure buildings.

The walls were constructed of bamboo and had been built in a more traditional style of architecture that was not often seen in Konoha. Remembering the old medic and his old house in the mountains, Sakura began to wonder if most people without ties to any of the major villages always lived such nondescript and ordinary lifestyles.

The obscure path seemed to stretch farther and farther into the village until the high walls began to drown out the sounds of people bargaining in the market and the mirthful cries of young children playing in the fields.

Sasuke walked at a steady pace through the soil and trampled down grass before stopping behind the back wall of a fairly large structure. What used to be finely crafted and pristine pillars were now washed out by the sun and had splintered under the pressure of heavy rainstorms.

"Sasuke?" Sakura watched him completely ignore the back screen of the building.

He traced the crease between two of the vertical panels that made up the back wall and pulled with a sudden jerk of his arm. Verdant eyes wide, Sakura looked on as he slid the hidden screen just enough to allow his thin body entrance. He cast her a beckoning, almost arrogant glance over his shoulder and turned to cross the threshold.

The pinkette scoffed softly and followed behind him, "Tch."

To her surprise, they had stepped into a small room blanketed almost completely in darkness.

But even through the dim light the two shinobi could see the plush futon that occupied the floor, covered with the most indulgent of deep velvet fabric.

Soft light bled through two flower-painted shoji screens on the far wall and did little to mask the drunken laughter and soft murmuring coming from the rest of the old building. A heavy curtain hung unused by the edge of one screen.

"What are we doing here, Sasuke-kun?" Sakura turned in a circle to take in the strange atmosphere of the room.

Sasuke knocked on the screen without the curtain and perched himself next to it, "I made contact with an informant here two years ago."

Pleasantly surprised that she got a response from the Uchiha so easily, Sakura walked to the large futon and knelt to sit on the edge and rest her aching feet.

"Don't."

Startled by Sasuke's voice, Sakura looked up from her midway crouch and glanced down at the bed in confusion.

"What's the matter?" she straightened and backed away from the bed.

Before he could answer, the silence was interrupted by sounds Sakura least expected to hear; unbridled moans drifted through one of the screens.

The pinkette gasped and nearly stumbled over her own feet. With an annoyed sigh, Sasuke uncrossed his arms and pulled the curtain over the screen to smother the unsettling noises. He received an appalled stare from his ex-teammate.

They were in a whorehouse.

The young medic shook her head in disbelief and only turned from glaring at Sasuke when a knock sounded against the edge of the other screen. Sakura assumed the sound was in response to the Uchiha's earlier knock.

Every muscle in his body tensed but Sasuke reached out and slid the door open.

A slim, very tall man emerged through the entrance and caused Sakura's hand to shoot to her weapons pouch in alarm. The raven-haired ninja merely blinked at the man expectantly.

The stranger, a smirk crippling the middle-aged set of his lips, turned from Sasuke and ran his eyes appreciatively down the form of the unfamiliar woman who was so obviously a well-seasoned kunoichi. When he spoke it was evident to the nervous pinkette that the man was used to using smooth, deceitful words.

"Well now, Uchiha-san," he drawled. His head tilted in consideration without removing his striking blue eyes from Sakura, "I would be more than happy to divulge all information I have recently acquired; that is, if you can convince your lovely friend to abandon all ideas of dropping me where I stand."

Sasuke's penetrating gaze slid to Sakura and softened for the briefest of moments. She was clutching tightly to a kunai drawn halfway from the pouch at her thigh.

Eyes zeroing in on the intensity that sent tremors up and down her arm, Sasuke allowed his mouth to tilt into a lax, halfhearted smirk before bringing his gaze back up to catch Sakura's eye. He shook his head firmly.

With an inward groan, Sakura relinquished her grip on the weapon's metal loop, allowing the kunai to fall back into the pouch with a dull _clink._

The tall man hummed, satisfied, and cast Sakura another appraising expression as he reached into the loose long sleeve of his expensive shirt. His apparel consisted of a strange combination of traditional and more modern civilian clothing that made it rather difficult for the young medic to decide whether he was a ninja or not.

Her shimmering eyes narrowed.

He was either an overly arrogant civilian or an elite shinobi capable of masking powerful chakra to a near perfect degree.

When the man's large hand resurfaced, his fingers were gripping a tarnished scroll. Sakura's dirty hair brushed the slope of her shoulders in her efforts to lean forward enough to get a better glimpse of the paper.

But Sasuke made it vanish into his possession with a blurred flourish of seals.

Anger thrummed in Sakura's veins in response to the Uchiha's secrecy, and she resolved to herself to find out what was going once and for all . . . after they left the brothel.

"We haven't corresponded since before the war," the man leaned against the wall authoritatively, a lascivious grin spreading across his face when a muffled moan drifted through the drawn curtain. His smirk grew at the sight of Sakura wincing in embarrassment. "I was beginning to think you had been killed, Uchiha-san," he turned away from the pinkette to face Sasuke fully. "Your friend looks quite uncomfortable, so I'll make my report brief."

Sasuke pushed away from the wall and moved to stand by Sakura, "Don't waste my time, Yamada."

Face growing grim at the sight of the young ninja rapidly losing his temper, Yamada straightened considerably and began to talk.

Sakura arched a light and delicate brow at Sasuke, who ignored her and focused on Yamada's words. It was apparent he had established quite the reputation across the nations during his time as a missing nin, and the kunoichi was not sure whether to be disappointed at the imposing nature of the powerful young man who was once her teammate.

But then she remembered _exactly_ what he was capable of, and realized she should not be surprised in the least. A familiar ache blossomed in her chest as she watched Sasuke negotiate with the seedy informant. Did she even know him anymore?

"Your shark subordinate—Suigetsu, I believe—brought me your request about four months ago . . . toothy bastard wouldn't leave my girls alone, but—"

"_Don't_ waste my time."

Yamada snapped his mouth shut in exasperation and shot Sakura a pitying glance, "I sent the design through to Lightning, Uchiha. I assume the weapons smith has completed your request by now. Let me say, it certainly wasn't easy."

Sasuke nodded and fished a bundle from his weapons pouch, which he tossed to Yamada. The whorehouse owner's eyes perked up at the weight of the bundle in his hand; it was obviously a considerable sum of money, "Much appreciated," he muttered distractedly.

He turned to exit the room, but looked over his shoulder in slight hesitation, "I'm sure I don't have to warn you about bounty hunters?"

Sasuke nodded grimly and watched his informant exit the room, leaving him with a confused and extremely irritated kunoichi.

As soon as they were left alone, Sakura immediately fired her questioning, "What's on the scroll?"

She bit her lip when she was offered no response, "_Sasuke_, the scroll?"

He had his back turned to her, eyes narrowing on the shoji screen Yamada had just left through. Panic shot through the pinkette's body in recognition of the Uchiha's body language; he was rapidly growing suspicious.

"He usually tries to get more money from me," he murmured.

Another shock of fear ran down Sakura's spine, "What?"

"Yamada," he repeated quietly. His shinobi boots glided silently across the bamboo paneling and onto the soft carpet surrounding the large futon. "He never settles for the initial payment without complaining afterwards."

Sakura's verdant eyes widened further in understanding.

The smell of dust pervaded the corners of her senses as she sniffed the air and spun to face the hidden door they had used to enter the building, nearly bumping into Sasuke on his way to the same far wall. Feeling no apparent chakra signatures, he pressed an ear to the wood and nodded seriously to Sakura.

Bounty hunters were flooding into the brothel's back alley.

"That _bastard,_" Sakura hissed. Her eyes darted around the room in a frantic search for an escape. A glance at Sasuke solidified her fears; his injuries and their combined travel exhaustion put them in no position to battle against a large number of enemies.

Always the perfect outward picture of calmness, the Uchiha walked to the screen Yamada disappeared through and slid it open enough to provide for adequate vision yet still remain undetected. Sakura ambled up quietly beside him and together they observed the happenings in the front house.

The smell of cheap perfume and sake wafted through the crack in the screen, a harbinger of the sight now presenting itself before them. Many women, most indulgently dressed and some scantily clad, occupied the large room, tending to customers with less than . . . _wholesome_ means. Groups of people chatted, inebriated and lustily, around several low tables in the vicinity, some rising from time to time and disappearing with women into rooms similar to the one Sakura and Sasuke currently occupied.

But their attention was most drawn to Yamada's tall form at the front door, conversing nervously with several unrecognizable ninja who were roguish in appearance.

Sasuke stiffened and shut the screen. He turned to look at Sakura, expression thoughtful.

"Disguise yourself with a henge," he advised.

Sakura's facial structure was slightly altered and her hair a dark brown before Sasuke even finished the statement. He nodded in approval and stripped himself of his shirt. An inconvenient blush coloring her face and her eyes darting wide open, the pinkette backed up in alarm, "Sasuke-kun?"

"Get on the bed."

"The bed?" she turned in flustered alarm and looked down at the bed with disgust crinkling her nose, "But we're in a filthy _whorehouse_, and you said—"

Heavy footsteps sounded just outside both doors and Sakura suddenly found herself entrenched in the bed sheets, a blanket fluttering down from above and Sasuke's complete weight pressing onto her body.

Just as the footfalls slowed to a foreboding stop just before the shoji screen, a ripping sound tore the atmosphere in the small room. Sakura looked down in shock and found that Sasuke had divested her of her shirt. She was unable to reign in the gasp at the feeling of his body's heat bleeding into her own skin through the bindings of her torso.

The blanket settled down over them, covering their heads as their close proximity registered in their adrenaline-riddled minds; Sakura panted and her eyelids grew heavy, her heated breaths combining with Sasuke's as they hid together disguised as a couple engaged in coitus, eye to eye and heaving chest to chest.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Well . . . ahem. I hope you enjoyed it. For some reason, this chapter was the most difficult for me to write since the prison chapter.**

**I've often wondered at what Sasuke did during the time skip besides training and learning jutsu from Orochimaru; I suppose it just makes sense to me that he encountered a lot of questionable people, which will now backfire on him in a sense. I also wonder if Sasuke ever thinks about the night he left, which may be why I emphasized the moon and Sakura's tears. Do you ever speculate about such things that naturally fell between the cannon cracks?**

**And again, a warm "thank you" for reading, and I sincerely hope that you liked this chapter as much as I liked writing it for you all. You guys inspire me so much.**

**Please, do review!**


	9. Ramen and Bounty Hunters

_**The Atrophy and Redemption of Uchiha Sasuke**_

_ Chapter Eight: Ramen and Bounty Hunters _

* * *

Dropping another bowl onto the already growing tower of dishes, the pending Rokudaime readied his trusty chopsticks. A toothy grin lit up his whiskered cheeks, big blue eyes peering with utmost concentration into the new bowl of steaming ramen slowly descending onto the counter before him.

"Here you go," Teuchi chirped happily. "Special, savory broth for our new Hokage!"

Naruto beamed, "Thanks, old man. I'm not officially Hokage yet, but I will be once some things get settled, dattebayo!"

The blonde Jinchuuriki turned his attention back to the large bowl in front of him and licked his lips. Heaps upon heaps of delicious ramen noodles swam in a deep pool of rich soup; sliced pieces of hard-boiled egg were nestled colorfully in the piping hot dish, giving it a rather bright air. Naruto breathed in dramatically.

Oh, yes. Ichiraku ramen was nothing short of a religious experience.

He picked up a large mouthful with his chopsticks and raised it slowly to his lips. His mouth opened in anticipation as he watched drops of surely delicious broth slide tantalizingly down the noodles, the liquid glistening oh-so-perfectly—

"Dickless, I have news."

Naruto's eyes widened and he hacked up his ramen all over the table. Outraged, he spun around in his stool to face the intruder that had dared sneak up on him during such an emotional moment, "Hey, you bastard! What's the big idea?"

Sai blinked, "I have returned from my mission to Suna," he paused and leaned closer.

His head tilted, black eyes darting from the steaming ramen and back to Naruto. He seemed to be contemplating something important, and his eyes narrowed considerably once he apparently settled upon an answer that was satisfactory to his curious mind.

And then he winked.

The perplexed Kyuubi container leaned away from his wacky teammate, eyebrow raised.

Sai winked again.

"Huh?" Naruto pouted. "What the heck are you doing?"

Sai leaned away with his brow furrowed, "I am implying that, in reality, I was not really in Sunagakure."

"Yeah, well _'in reality'_ you're really a freaking nutcase. Now let me eat my—hey! Where are you taking me? Let me go, 'ttebayo!"

The dark-haired ANBU, refusing to release Naruto or listen to his shrieks and squeals, took to the rooftops with the orange-clad idiot in tow and headed in the direction of the apartment belonging to the one and only Copy Ninja.

* * *

"What the hell!"

Ignoring the outraged exclamations of his most vivacious ex-student, Kakashi treaded lazily over the carpet of his humble abode, stepped obligingly over a snoring Pakkun, and continued on until he reached the location of his writing desk, which was sorely unused and sprinkled with a thick layering of dust. A single scroll was spread out on its surface.

After glancing over its contents for what must have been the seven hundredth time, the jounin rolled it closed and sealed the stolen scroll away with a flurry of hand signs. He would have to show these papers, which he had secretly retrieved from the home of Mitokado Homura, member of Konoha's council, to Tsunade-sama as soon as possible.

"Hey, Kaka-sensei, I'm talking to you!"

"Be quiet, Naruto-kun. Senpai is thinking."

"I don't care! You guys lied to me about _my_ teammates and I want answers, datteba—"

"Shut up, Dickless."

Naruto snapped his mouth shut into an outraged pout, bright azure eyes trained on the silver-haired man who used to be his sensei as he continued to pace lackadaisically across the room, stepping over his sleeping ninken each time. When the jounin finally ceased his walking, the Kyuubi jinchuuriki opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off when Kakashi ignored him and instead turned to face the other ex-ANBU in the room.

Divested of his hitai-ate, he peered through his wayward silver strands, scarred Sharingan eye closed and his remaining dark eye sharp and calculated, "Sai, how injured were they?"

Sai, who looked even paler than usual in his dark gray civilian clothes, shook his head in concern, "Sakura was very tired when I left, but I was not under the impression that she was in dire need of help. Otherwise, I would have intervened. Uchiha-san was not so fortunate," Naruto ceased his mumbling at once and his blonde head snapped up in alarm, "but he seemed to be healing well."

Kakashi nodded and reached up to scratch at his jaw through his mask, "I've got Tenzou keeping tabs on the council until Tsunade officially passes the title on to Naruto," he then turned to finally face the soon-to-be Hokage, face grim and serious. "Now, I know what you're thinking, Naruto, but we can't let you—hey, Naruto."

But the Kyuubi container was not listening; instead, he had resumed Kakashi's pacing for him, although he was not as successful in avoiding Pakkun with his feet. He gesticulated wildly with his arms, nearly whacking a perplexed Sai in the head several times.

"I can't believe this!" he yelled. "Those old geezers let Teme get thrown in jail even though he helped us win the dammed war, and Sakura-chan didn't even tell me when she found out!"

"Now, Naruto," Kakashi interrupted, "you know Sakura-chan wouldn't lie to you unless she thought there was no other way."

Naruto shook his head in denial and turned on Sai, "You! You talk on and on about being comrades, but what do you do? You go and help _this_," he jabbed a finger in Kakashi's direction, "old man lie to me about my friends!"

Swallowing a groan Kakashi moved towards his ex-student as he continued to rant animatedly about their apparent betrayal. And with a flick of his wrist towards a certain pressure point, he sent the orange-clad lunatic sprawling to the ground, asleep.

Sai blinked down at his unconscious teammate, "I appreciate that, Kakashi-senpai. I was beginning to feel very harassed."

Kakashi propped Naruto onto the apartment's old, beaten couch and began to relay his plans concerning his two troublesome ex-students to his fellow ANBU. The room was soon filled with the combined snoring of both the jinchuuriki and an irritated Pakkun.

The Copy-nin sighed.

That certainly went well.

* * *

Uchiha Sasuke came from a prestigious family, a clan widely feared, with an inner culture and tradition as old and deeply ingrained as the powers within their blood.

Uchiha Sasuke had been taught not to compromise young ladies, nor their virtue.

And Uchiha Sasuke had certainly never been this close to a woman.

He had been offered solicitation for sure, when Orochimaru and Kabuto's visitations had dragged him quite grudgingly through seedy, underground establishments, such as the one he was trapped in at the moment. But the raven-haired young man had not graced their offers with even the slightest consideration, his mind's eye enveloped beneath tides of darkness and the only real lust he had ever truly felt, ever truly entertained—a lust for revenge.

A pretty, soft pink blush blossomed on the face of the young woman that lay stunned underneath him. Sasuke shifted slightly in response, well aware of their suggestive positions, but all troublesome thoughts vanished from the two shinobi's minds when the entrance panel was kicked to the ground, a cloud of dust riding into the once dark room on the backs of the invading rays of sunlight.

Tense muscles unfurling, Sasuke made a show of throwing the covers from their heads and moving to glare up at the armed intruders. Four imposing figures, obviously bounty hunters, had entered the room and froze upon the intimate sight before them.

"What the hell?" Sasuke growled low in his chest, looking very much the part of a man interrupted.

It was then that a flustered Sakura noticed his appearance was slightly altered. His facial structure was changed with henge to seem older, rougher. His hair, which in its true state over the years had grown to almost graze his shoulders, was now lighter in color and reached his bare shoulder blades.

From what the pinkette remembered seeing in various files and photographs, this certain henge form closely resembled his brother, and the sight was more than slightly alarming.

All other thoughts aside, Sakura caught on quickly; she pouted, as if only mildly perturbed by the intrusion, and threw her arms imploringly around Sasuke's neck, "What's going on?" she simpered.

She tried to refrain from stiffening, if only to keep herself from portraying the shock elicited by the seductive breathiness in her very own voice. Above her flushed body, the Uchiha's disguised face turned down towards her, one eyebrow arched in slight amusement.

She suppressed a shiver and tossed her head to its side on the pillow. Her lashes fluttered, drawing the attention of every male in the room to the arresting emeralds of her eyes . . . and the bareness of her pale skin that ran from the slope of her smooth neck and down to the swell of her breasts, her modesty preserved only by partly-severed chest bindings and the chest of the young man resting atop her and hiding her nearly naked form from any leering eyes.

Craning her neck to see them better from her most inconvenient angle on the futon, Sakura greeted them with a seasoned countenance she vaguely recalled learning in extra emergency lessons in the academy. With a saucy smirk, she quirked a brow, "You'll have to speak with Yamada-san about getting available ladies to . . . um . . . service you," one small hand rose to allow lithe, delicate-looking fingers to graze Sasuke's neck, "because, as you can see, I'm quite indisposed at the moment."

Impressed with the pinkette's skills with deception, the Uchiha gave the bounty hunters—really, it was painfully obvious as to their intentions and their identities—a murderous glare and leaned back down to rest his body atop Sakura's, as if he had every meaning to continue, even in their presence.

The four intruders remained in the two doorways and very nearly gawked at the sight before them. They glanced back and forth between each other with uncertainty.

Taking the initiative, two of them stepped forward from the screen that led to the front of the establishment. The other two that had entered through the back way panel remained close to the entrance, both wary and embarrassed.

One of the shinobi approaching the bed turned to the other and shook his head after thoroughly analyzing Sasuke's face, "It's not him."

His partner, a muscular man wearing a gray Mist uniform, frowned heavily and, eyes settling onto Sakura, motioned to his three companions to vacate the room.

"But, taichou—" one of them began to insist upon the contrary, clearly confused, but his captain waved him off and signaled to the main room with a commanding jerk of his head.

The three moved to leave and watched their captain suspiciously until he slid the screen shut behind them.

Sakura was nervous. She turned anxious verdant eyes to Sasuke's slightly changed but still dark ones, and he tightened his grip around her waist in response.

Being this close to him, with no clothing acting as a barrier between their chests, the young medic could feel the conflicted fluctuations of this chakra. She wondered if it was painful or frustrating to repress such powerful, roiling life energy.

The last Uchiha was also suspicious of the Mist ninja's actions. Bounty hunters usually preferred to confront enemies in numbers, rather than face powerful wanted individuals alone; after all, there was a reason they had bounties assigned to their capture—and, in most cases, their lives.

The man would not have dared to face two skilled shinobi alone, and so it was safe to assume that, while he was wary of Sasuke, he was certain that Sakura was only a civilian whore.

The hidden shifting of Sasuke's muscles beneath this skin signaled to Sakura that he was contemplating whether or not they should attack and risk the chance of being ambushed or injured by the others in this state of near chakra-exhaustion.

But the actions of the Mist nin would soon send him into an uncontrollable rage regardless.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Yes, indeed. A ticked off Sasuke coming up soon. First of all, allow me to**** apologize for the late update, but I've completely sorted the plotline, and so things should run smoother from now on. I hope it hasn't been too difficult to follow because you've all been so wonderful and supportive.**

**And I want to thank each and every one of you for reading and giving your feedback; even if you don't give feedback and just faithfully read this story, I'm still very grateful. Again, I'm honestly so thankful for all of you, which I just can't possibly say enough!**

**By the way, I'm sorry if you were expecting something more romantic between Sasuke and Sakura due to their intimate proximity, but it's just too soon and it really wouldn't be realistic. I can imagine that cannon Sasuke would move slowly . . . very slowly, haha. **

**However, it will happen eventually. I promise.**

**Thank you again for reading; I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and . . . Merry Christmas!**

**Please, do review!**


	10. Images

_**The Atrophy and Redemption of Uchiha Sasuke**_

_ Chapter Nine: Images_

* * *

Sasuke rose lithely to his feet, tossing Sakura his black shirt after spotting her torn one lying on the floor out of the corner of his vision, which was training most threateningly upon the Mist shinobi.

He was average in height and build, with observant green eyes and long brunette hair bound back by a hair tie. Tilting his head to the side but keeping the other ninja in the room well within his sight, he watched the brown-haired young woman pull the dark-hued shirt over her head. A roguish smirk dragged the corner of his mouth upwards when he observed the fearful shaking of her hands.

He then turned his attention to Sasuke and took in his appearance most arrogantly, "I'm assuming by your blatant show of concern for her modesty that you realize I've seen through your guise," he clicked his tongue as if in disapproval and took a step closer to the large futon.

Sakura further emphasized her nervousness by biting her lip, which was not very difficult following the revelation that this bounty hunter apparently knew who Sasuke was. But, judging by his disregard concerning her, for the most part, she hoped fervently that he still thought her to be nothing but an immoral, brunette civilian girl beginning to grow scared out of her wits.

Luckily, her plan seemed to be working effectively enough. She had already made up her mind to keep her identity a mystery for as long as was reasonably possible. Very early on, in the first tender years of her career as a kunoichi, the pinkette had been taught the importance of maintaining all cryptic information from the enemy, should such secrets serve to the advantage of her team and herself.

The Mist nin continued to pace tauntingly before them.

He openly sneered, "Really, I expected someone of your notoriety to possess something in your arsenal far superior to a mere henge," with another full glance at Sasuke's changed appearance, he scoffed. "Perhaps," he turned to leer suggestively at Sakura, who had backed away from them and into the far corner, "the fact is that you truly are _tired_, Uchiha-san?"

Much to his displeasure, the cruel taunts coaxed no response from the silent missing nin, and he reached ominously into his gray cloak, observing Sasuke with wary green eyes, until his hand resurfaced, a long kunai tightly gripped in his fingers.

"However, Uchiha Sasuke," his face crawled with cruelty, smirking, "if your henge form didn't so resemble your coward of a brother, I might not have recognized you."

Sakura's eyes widened, a gasp escaping her throat, feeling the air suddenly grow deathly cold and cause her to subconsciously back up even farther into the wall.

With fearful eyes that remained emerald green despite her henge, she looked towards Sasuke and felt her heart drop without warning. He had released his own disguise, and his usually stoic face was creased with lines of anger, an expression she could not remember seeing so clearly before.

Is this what had happened to him during his years away from Konoha? Away from her and Team Seven?

The watchful kunoichi swallowed. Her eyes darted to the messy heap of blankets resting on the futon by Sasuke's feet, where her weapons pouch lay discarded somewhere underneath. Her mind reeling through all possible scenarios, the pinkette carefully began to analyze each outlet—not that they had many—and covertly allowed her senses to reach out beyond the brothel walls in carefully controlled, hopefully undetectable tendrils of burning energy.

Her teeth worried her bottom lip. Her now brunette brow furrowed beneath her large forehead.

Both the entrance and rear alley of the whorehouse were being guarded by a considerable number of bounty hunters. She mused distractedly, thinking to herself that they were an odd, ragtag group, as bounty hunters usually were. Unlike the Mist nin being stared down by her ex-teammate, the rest of the nin were obviously not very experienced—their chakra signatures were nervous and alerted to Sakura that they were doing little more than pacing outside and intimidating people from entering the building. Her brow furrowed deeper in concentration. They were definitely not exceedingly strong, nor did they feel to be very skilled; the strength in each of their chakra signatures also varied deeply, assuring the pinkette that they certainly would not be able to work well together in battle if they were this unfamiliar with each other.

Feeling more confident after analyzing their surroundings, Sakura shifted and carefully made a slow attempt at moving back to the futon without again drawing attention to herself. Inside she almost wished the Mist nin knew she was a kunoichi; at least then she would not have to pretend to cower away in the corner, but her ex-sensei's voice seemed to be whispering in her ear, reminding her to take advantage of any and all knowledge unknown to the enemy. Again, it seemed that Kakashi's wisdom was coming to her aid.

Not that she would ever tell him that, of course.

And then the sound of Sasuke's voice, seemingly cold in tone—although the pinkette instantly recognized its shaking, rapidly mounting anger—forced her attention to return to the two males in the room.

The last Uchiha was positively seething, muscles twitching under the pressure of his clenched jaw, "Don't you dare speak of my brother."

Realizing he had successfully crept his way beneath Sasuke's skin, the bounty hunter narrowed his leaf-like eyes, concentrating on the dark-haired young man standing so threateningly in front of him, "Lost your temper have you? You aren't quite as impenetrable or . . . _self-disciplined_ as I had been led to believe." another cruel sneer testing against his lips, he turned blatantly to look at a shocked Sakura, who immediately halted the unnoticeably steady slide of her foot against the floor.

She cursed inside her head, eyes growing wide, but was thankful that the Mist nin did not seem to notice her new position closer to the futon or think much of her torn apron, which he seemed to pass off as a skirt rather than medic gear.

_A Foolish mistake, _Sakura thought curtly to herself, _being too focused on the quarry to notice your surroundings._

Then he moved to the side in a sudden blur of gray, away from Sasuke and towards the pinkette.

She hissed when he gripped her around the arm and yanked her body harshly to his chest. But even through the brown hair obstructing the jostled kunoichi's view, Sakura could see Sasuke retrieve her weapons pouch out from under the covers before launching his body forward, brandishing one of her kunai, only to come to a stop when the Mist nin savagely twisted her arm behind her back and pressed his own blade to her neck.

"That's right, Uchiha, stay where you are," he threatened right next to Sakura's ear.

She winced when the man pulled harder on her twisted arm and remembered to let out a pained whimper that would be expected of a civilian girl. It was difficult to quash her kunoichi instinct of masking her pain, but it was definitely easy to make it seem realistic. The shocks of pain coursing through her left arm were beyond real, a stark and humiliating reminder of her still tender shoulder. But her mind remained as an intricate machine.

Her emerald eyes never left those of her ex-teammate, waiting patiently for any indication that they had a chance of getting out of here alive, even if they attacked despite being drained of chakra. It was painfully obvious that neither of them had recovered since they left the mountain prison, yet even there the last Uchiha had been injured, having exhausted most of whatever chakra he had stored in order to bolt from captivity with his lightning jutsu. The young medic herself had already been travel-weary, but she smothered her frustrations over the past few days and tactically sought a way out of this mess.

Sakura admitted grudgingly to herself that her strategizing had backed her into a corner. And now she was being held hostage with a kunai pressed into her neck.

But it only took one measured look from Sasuke to reassure her that he too was thinking of all the drawbacks and possibilities, just as she was. Ironic how in tune they were with each other after all these years.

Chuckling jeeringly, the bounty hunter took sick satisfaction at the look of alarm that briefly consumed his quarry's face at the sound of his female companion's agony, "How interesting," he murmured while looking sideways at the mousy-haired girl, whose eyes seemed to be tearing up in distress, "that such a wanted rogue shinobi would willingly endanger himself to visit a place like this."

Sasuke's grip on the kunai tightened until his knuckles became ghostly white.

The Mist nin continued with a determined, dark gleam swirling in his crazed eyes, "Perhaps . . . perhaps you come here often, hm? To . . . unwind?" he felt the girl in his grip begin to tense up, as if she were preparing to escape, and he heinously tightened his fist in preparation to pull, "Is that how it is then? She's your favorite?"

This time when he wrenched at Sakura's arm, she would not have been able to restrain the scream that left her lips, posing deceptively as a civilian or not.

Eyes squeezed shut, she bit into her lip in reflex, drawing blood, and was forced to fall to her knees under the onslaught of pain monopolizing nearly every single nerve that was alive in her left arm. A violent grimace marred her features. She could nearly hear the tearing of tendons and the unnatural twisting of muscle throughout the abused limb.

But even above the sound of her screaming was the sharp _thud_ of metal splintering deep into wood, followed—much to the pinkette's relief—by the absence of the sharp, menacing pressure against her throat, as well as the complete release of her arm.

A haggard gasp escaped through her teeth and she looked up from her trembling hand, just in time to see Sasuke toss her weapons pouch towards her collapsed form. She reached out deftly. Her tired mind finally released the henge. Once she caught the materials in her good hand, she was rolling across the floor and nearer to Sasuke, cradling her arm protectively against her chest.

"Dammit!"

Sakura's eyes darted in the direction of the Mist nin's outraged cursing. Her hair, which was a vibrant pink in hue once again, joltingly revealed her identity as a shinobi to the bounty hunter. The pinkette barely noticed her teammate placing an observing hand on her shoulder before rushing passed her, closing her eyes in despair at the realization that she had no chakra to heal herself.

His doujutsu's tomoe swimming and changing shape, Sasuke leapt at the Mist nin, all thoughts of and efforts to repress his ignited temper completely forgotten, and Sakura could do absolutely nothing to stop it from her current vantage point. The complete length of her arm was burning like hellfire; the pain pierced sharp, crippling, dizzying. Her ears, consumed by roaring panic, barely registered the slam of the main shoji screen being pushed open in haste.

Her hand moved on instinct. The kunai shrilly screamed as its blade grated against the metal of other weapons compacted together within the cloth pouch re-strapped to her thigh.

It was flung from her fingers before the action was even registered by her pained thoughts.

"_Heh,_" she hissed in pain and drew her good arm back to protectively hover over her opposite wrist still pressed to her breast. Rather than look up to see if her weapon met its mark, the kunoichi vaulted onto her back and rolled rapidly across the floor, narrowly avoiding the barrage of shuriken that surely would have come raining down on top of her, if not for her body's quick reflexes.

She felt like rejoicing at the realization that the pain in her limb was slowly beginning to dull and fade away. Boot-clad feet wobbled uneasily when she moved to stand, only to be knocked back into the wall by a measured burst of crippling Wind Release jutsu, which caused the entirety of the building to rattle and a large portion of the roof to be blasted completely from its perch on the wooden ceiling beams. Sakura gasped when a new pain jarred her back and injured shoulder; she swore the bamboo wall had splintered violently behind her upon the abrupt impact. Shrapnel had glanced against her temple; blood trickled in overwhelming streams from the flesh wound.

A curse narrowly escaping her pursed lips, she cracked her bleary emerald eyes open to see three figures dwelling like shadows through the windswept dust, one of them—the wind user who had injured her—approaching her collapsed figure with a threatening gait, until he seemed to vanish altogether.

The pinkette's thoughts became awash with panic at the implication of the enemy nin had flash-stepping closer to deliver that final, fatal blow, and she pushed herself up against the wall with shaky hands, but with a firm constitution, and prepared herself for the attack—but it never came.

Letting out a relieved breath and warily retraining her gaze onto the other two back-up bounty nin remaining in the room, Sakura passed the presence of the third ninja off as a mere illusion. She did not dare expend anymore chakra in order to gauge her injuries, but from the telling ache that throbbed persistently inside and around her skull, the medic suspected that she had been, in fact, struck with a mild concussion.

With a groan, Sakura pushed herself up further. Exhaustion tightened its clutch, and her eyes welled with unbidden tears of pure, devastating despair. Nevertheless, she could still barely hear Sasuke and the Mist-nin engaged in heated taijutsu across the room, although much of her visibility was obscured by flying dust and debris from the steadily crumbling rooftop.

The two other bounty hunters hovered uncertainly by the now demolished rice paper screen, their trembling gaze transfixed on something near the fractured and jagged rubble.

Finally managing to push herself back up by steading herself against the wall, Sakura urgently began surveying the room now that her head was somewhat cleared against the chaos. Green eyes grew wide at the realization that she could no longer hear nor see Sasuke and his vicious opponent.

And it was at that moment that she saw him—the wind user, _not_ an illusion, that had slammed her so unforgivingly into the wall—sprawled on the ground next to the heap of splintered wood and shattered, weather-beaten roofing tile in a nearly unrecognizable heap.

It was as if a kunai had been raked savagely across his face.

Horrified, Sakura instantly removed her stare from the bloodied corpse and the two remaining hunters, and looked instead for her ex-teammate, whose fight with the Mist shinobi seemed to have felled a wall and carried on into the next room.

How the hell had they caused so much damage when Sasuke was not even capable of performing a single jutsu?

Sakura gasped and came close to stumbling ungracefully over debris. Fear slammed into her stomach like a sharp stake, wrenching at her insides and managing to rouse enough strength to jolt her forwards into a surprisingly agile sprint, with barely any regard for her own safety.

Strange, how she had always valued Sasuke's life more than her own.

The medic looked warily over her shoulder and back towards the two other nin, only to discover with relief that they had already fled the vicinity, mostly likely to calm and muffle the occupants dwelling in the front room of the establishment. She could hear Yamada's indignant yells of outrage at the now damaged state of his business.

Carefully dodging the wrecked fragments of the shattered wall and part of the damaged ceiling, Sakura looked back again at the mangled body of the brutally killed bounty nin. From her position in the other room, she could barely make out the position of the body. The sounds of clanging metal pervaded through the settling dust. Then she turned around and stumbled farther into the building.

Her heart's pounding echoed upwards and into her throat.

Even though Sasuke was still battling the hunter shinobi from the Mist, there was no doubt in Sakura's mind as to who had massacred the wind user.

* * *

He flipped through the air with a martial finesse that would make any seasoned shinobi envious. But it did little to mask the steady drainage of his energy. His chakra reserves had been dangerously scant to begin with, and the tenacity of his opponent was certainly not granting the Uchiha any favors.

Sasuke executed one last somersault to relocate himself a satisfyingly safe distance away from the Mist nin, whose ninjutsu attacks were thoroughly destroying everything in the vicinity. One end of a large wooden beam at least a meter in width, that had once run the entire length of the ceiling, plummeted to the ground with a devastating rumble. Frightened civilians' screams echoed down the hallways and through any walls that remained standing amidst the destruction.

The Uchiha's eyes widened in alarm. All at once, he redirected his trajectory of free-fall and landed in a crouch upon the now diagonal beam. Yet even at that height, dirt wafted in taunting clouds around his body, forcing him to instinctually slow his breathing and suppress a cough. Only the crimson of his Sharingan allowed him to see through the dust and smoke polluting the air.

Deafening silence surrounded him just then, and an unbelievably irritating train of thought—initiated by the sting of a deep gash that ran down his left bicep and seeped drops of blood, drip by drip—slowly drifted to the forefront of this already whirling mind.

Sakura.

He had sacrificed his focus, the result of which being the recent flesh wound marring his limb, in order to demolish the most potent threat to that annoying kunoichi. And to instill fear in the other two, if only for the chance that they would think twice about attacking.

His eyes narrowed as he continued to scan the floor that lay at least twenty feet below him. In brief retrospect, he did not even remember rationalizing through any reasonable thought process. It had been like a reflex. To lash out in blind anger after seeing her brutally hurt and thrown into such a callous surface by that nin's jutsu.

Sasuke subconsciously placed a hand over his bleeding wound. She had better not get herself killed and make him regret his decision.

"_Suiton: Suiryūdan no Jutsu!"_

The sound of surging water thundered in his ears before the water jutsu even made itself visible and reared its massive head against the ceiling. Sasuke leapt backwards off of the wooden beam, his perfect vision enabling him to dodge every rapid strike of the snarling water dragon as it soared after him.

The Uchiha smirked.

He had expected as much. Takigakure was aplenty with waterfalls.

He landed nimbly on the ground. The jolt ran into the soles of his feet and up his legs. Steadily backing away from the room's spacious center, Sasuke calmly gauged his surroundings. The water dragon was nowhere to be seen.

The raven-haired shinobi loosened his fingers around his wound and brought the bloody digits to lie over the summoning seal of his wrist guard. It angered him that he lacked enough energy to perform a single jutsu.

"Hiding, Uchiha?" The voice echoed from wall to damaged wall.

In response, the missing nin backed slowly behind a mound of debris. His fingers tapped the seal. Ice-cold metal weighed down his palms, web-thin wire running sharply along alabaster fingers. Expelling a harsh breath, Sasuke leapt up, somersaulting over the splintered wood and the menacing rush of water, the powerful torrents of which could have shattered the whole of his ribcage had they made contact. Eyes wide with his bloodline limit, Sasuke targeted the mist nin.

Green eyes manic at the prospect of killing the last Uchiha and reaping the rewards from both Fujita and the shinobi nations, the bounty hunter stood confidently on the massive beam of fallen wood the rogue nin had just abandoned.

The blunt wire slid heavily against the skin of Sasuke's strong hands as he jumped off of the ground, slamming his foot into a piece of wood to gain momentum, all motion around him slowing drastically as he watched through spinning Sharingan irises.

His favorite fūma shuriken was a mere glistening glare spiraling across the room's expanse, cutting through the advancing water jutsu that towered above, and embedding into the chest and abdomen of the bounty hunter from Mist.

Dropping down from his turn in midair, Sasuke landed and yanked harshly on the wire of his weapon, drawing it back towards him and resealing the large shuriken into the summoning source of his wrist seals. Its four elongated blades tore gruesomely at flesh as it was pulled from its target.

Released, the _suiton_ collapsed to the floor like cold rain, the exhausted Uchiha's heavy knees buckling against his will and following.

The aftermath of the battle rang unforgivingly in his ears. All corridors within the building echoed only silence, having been long-vacated by its occupants. Distracted—and nearly delirious as temporary adrenaline abandoned the pulsing, deafening rush in his veins—Sasuke observed from beneath soaked ebony bangs, that the fight had continued on passed the brothel and into a much larger, empty building. The bounty hunter's blood mingled gradually with the water, swirling like crimson paint on a soaked canvas of crystallinity.

A weak groan carried eerily across the room. Sasuke's head snapped up from its tired bow, all predatorial instinct he had ever acquired starting to rise alongside his already tenuous temper.

He looked on emotionlessly as, struggling to draw in even one single, raspy breath, the Mist nin crawled across the submerged floor with a blind and hopeless destination.

Images of Sakura screaming out in pain, her arm being twisted and its muscles torn from their places mercilessly, filled the wild storm of Sasuke's thoughts. Memories of his brother, his aniki's face staring lifelessly up into the heavens as the ominously gray storm clouds shook with thunder and the rain spilled forth. His brother leaning his forehead against his own, telling him that he would love him forever. Him. Sasuke. A dishonored Uchiha with a tainted past and a cursed legacy.

He stood, his movements slow and calculated over the water, until he stopped directly before the dying man clinging to life before him.

At the sight of Sasuke's boots, the Mist shinobi ceased his crawling.

His shredded body shivered piteously—in pain or in fear, Sasuke could not be sure.

Neither did he care.

With the dark tomoe and crimson hue fading slowly from his eyes—the reappearance of his natural obsidian gaze was somehow more cold, more intimidating than that of his bloodline—he met the dying ninja's own suffering gaze, watching as the man spat blood from his mouth and struggled to speak, cruel and despising, regardless of his perch on the brink of inevitable darkness.

He hissed through clenched teeth stained sickly red with blood, "T-they'll kill you, Uchiha . . . they'll find you. . . . You . . . are _nothing_ . . . but a murderer . . ." a mangled hand weakly extended from underneath his crippled body and clenched around Sasuke's pants.

The hardened Uchiha carelessly lifted his leg to remove the Mist nin's grip on his pant—

"A worthless killer . . .just like your brother . . . nothing but a worthless criminal," green eyes dulling rapidly, the dying hunter offered up one last nasty, degrading sneer. "You and your _whore_."

—leg.

Something vital within Sasuke severed with a resolute snap that seemed to thunderously rupture his eardrum—the last and only remaining vestige of patience that tethered him to his sanity. It threw him into an abyss of anger bereft of all rational thought.

His senses were dead. Not dormant, not stressed, not depleted. Just _dead._

Had they not been, perhaps Sasuke would have been able to see the blood, the sheer amount of _red_ that erupted from the already lifeless body on the receiving end of his fury. The sick laughter spilling unrestrained from his own mouth. He had not felt this way since under the influence of the curse seal, and since he had fought Danzo.

Then—

At the very corners of his perception, of his consciousness, he could feel her.

Could hear her feet running and sloshing through the water. Could hear her kicking and throwing debris, anything that barred her from him, out of her path.

Could sense her chakra and feel her presence and hear her voice and smell her scent.

_Sakura . . ._

Arms wrapped, pleading and shaking ardently, around his torso.

And he could _feel _her, warm and soft and gentle against his heaving back.

"Stop! _Please!_"

He gasped. His body sagged underneath her touch.

"_Please_, _Sasuke-kun. _Please stop."

* * *

**A/N: **

**Wow, I just loved that part during the Chuunin Exams . . .**

**That part where she's running to him, I feel like that's how much of her relationship with him has been: seeing him being his own worst enemy and running against all odds to get to him, to stop him, and to just take care of him.**

**I am so very sorry about the long wait! I want to thank you for reading this story, for reviewing, and for giving me such a lovely response for the last chapter, despite it not being especially lengthy or eventful. I'm overwhelmingly grateful, and I hope that this chapter made up for it because it was admittedly **_**so**_** difficult to write.**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for reading.**

**Please, do review!**


	11. You Care

_**The Atrophy and Redemption of Uchiha Sasuke**_

_ Chapter Ten: "You Care"_

* * *

"Sake?"

Kakashi shook his head once and shifted his weight to one hip, watching as Konoha's Godaime Hokage began pouring the _nihonshu _alcohol into a cup, before changing her mind and drinking straight from the large bottle instead.

She exhaled contentedly after downing several mouthfuls, the potent liquid having given her temporary respite from the report the Copy-Nin had just relayed to her. Then her amber eyes narrowed at the thought, and her fist came slamming down onto her desk.

Kakashi arched a silver brow. He was quickly starting to reconsider the temptation to pull a worn volume of _Icha Icha_ from the pocket of his tattered flack vest. No, that was much too risky.

Tsunade was muttering distractedly, nearly crushing the bottle with her fist, "That foolish little brat . . ."

"Tsunade-sama," the jounin interrupted with a lazy and placating tone lacing the drawl of his words, "I believe she made the correct decision considering the circumstances. She has always been a very sharp young—"

"I dedicate years to carefully training and honing her medical jutsu, and what does she do? Practically secedes from the village without warning and goes gallivanting across the countryside with an S-Ranked criminal."

"War hero," Kakashi corrected under his breath.

The Godaime glared at her resident Sharingan brat's impertinence and brought the bottle back to her painted lips, which seemed to have formed a permanent scowl since the Copy-Ninja's entrance into her office early that morning; another swig of sake disappeared down her far-beyond-inebriated throat, "Hmm."

It was time to change direction, Kakashi decided, "One of Sai's ink creatures reported back that Sakura defeated quite a few of Fujita's men. Helped put his prison out of commission for good, apparently."

A pleasant crease formed at the corner of his one visible eye as Tsunade's demeanor shifted all together, and she leaned back in her chair, barking out ecstatic laughter and nearly spilling what was left of her sake all over herself, "That sure does sound like my hellion of an apprentice! Good for her!"

Their conversation sobered rather quickly, however, when Kakashi removed a seemingly inconspicuous-looking scroll from the confines of his dark green vest.

His face went grim while he placed it into Tsunade's outstretched hand. She unrolled it onto her desk with a frown. Kakashi watched as her eyes darted up and down the page and over the scientific diagrams, each one of them causing more and more potent horror to bloom on her face.

"Well, _shit_."

He nodded slowly and drew closer to the desk, "I could scarcely believe the contents myself."

"Does Sasuke know?" closing her eyes in barely concealed anger, the Godaime looked away from the scroll and reached for her trusty alcohol, this time pouring the liquid into a small cup.

"I believe he knows enough," Kakashi placed a gloved hand over the breast pocket of his vest, "and I'm surprised he hasn't stormed into the village by now and tried to assassinate every one of them. He may, whether revenge-driven or not," his dark eye darkened yet further, tomoe of his borrowed doujutsu spinning headily in the other eye beneath his hitai-ate. "Even I would not blame him. There's a difference between vengeance and justice. Executing them would be justice."

Reclining backwards in her chair, Tsunade observed her warrior with curious, light eyes. He was generally less forthcoming; she knew he was especially interested where Uchiha affairs were concerned, and understandably so, yet she wondered what had brought such an obviously dark response about.

"And what else did you find with Homura's papers, Kakashi?"

The hand resting against his pocket slipped deftly into the hollow between the flack fabrics. A clinking sound resonated through the material.

"I didn't say anything to Naruto about the scroll," the object clamored delicately onto the wooden desk as it dropped from the open confines of the Copy-Nin's hand. "It's no use getting him worked up over the elders again when we haven't even discovered the full extent of their lies."

Nodding in agreement, her eyes glued to the small heap on the corner of her desk, Tsunade pressed healing chakra into her temple with the tips of two fingers. The red paint of her nails greatly contrasted the hazel of her tired eyes.

Honestly. She was getting far too old for this shit.

"I'm glad you didn't tell him. He's furious enough over their treatment of that Uchiha brat," she re-rolled the scroll and tossed it to Kakashi, who unfurled it briefly and pushed up his hitai-ate. Scant seconds passed before he repositioned the forehead protector and then ignited the flimsy parchment in a consuming burst of _katon_.

The contents had been far too horrid, far too disgusting for Tsunade to even bother committing to memory, and so she had obligingly watched as Kakashi recorded every word and every diagram into the already extensive archives of his prodigious mind, his borrowed Sharingan a whorl of steady, observant manipulations of the pupil. It had not been the first time she had marveled with medical wonder at the complex iris, the miraculous ocular powers of which had yet to be deciphered by any medic or by any genius thinker. The Sharingan wielder sunk into the wooden seat before the desk.

Tsunade turned slightly in her chair to gaze, absent-minded and sightless, outside of the window.

Kakashi hummed, "How is Naruto's training going?"

Nonchalance in the face of lies and conspiracy. Such is the interaction between two jaded shinobi that have seen too much death and taken far too many lives.

She scoffed deep within her chest, "Unruly brat nearly severed the entire village's security system trying to get out. _Four_ times mind you, Kakashi. Although," she sighed and crossed her jade-clad arms over her large chest, "I suppose we couldn't stop him if he truly wanted to find those two. It's only been this title, this position of Hokage that he's vied for so desperately since childhood, holding him back."

"Hmm," Kakashi conceded, "he does seem to have matured. But I think he just has more trust in his teammates than he used to."

Tsunade nodded, "But what of them? What of your other two students?"

"_Ex_-students," he corrected dryly and out of guilty habit.

Flipping a blonde pigtail over her shoulder, the Godaime shrugged. Kakashi's eye drooped slightly as fond regard washed over him in the form of memories, "I'm certain, Hokage-sama, that they are just fine, though I do pity one of them in particular," he shifted in his chair.

A fine light brow arched, "I assure you that my apprentice can deal with the young Uchiha well enough. It's her own fault for attaching herself to him so thoroughly."

"No, Hokage-sama," Kakashi chuckled, the corner of his eye crinkling in his usual, suspiciously jolly fashion, "I was referring to Sasuke."

He stood to the sound of his superior's loud laughter and prepared to leave. She began sipping from her ceramic cup, suddenly in much higher spirits than earlier. As he began turning around, he stopped abruptly when his gaze found the edge of the desk.

"Tenzou is acting as an undercover reconnaissance retriever—at least that is what I have been informed of by Sai. Is that correct, Kakashi?" Tsunade turned again in her chair and watched from the window of the Hokage tower, piercing eyes observing Mitokado Homura scurrying from his home, one guard trailing behind protectively like the slinking tail of a vermin, while several more specialized ANBU followed invisibly through the surrounding trees.

Once the council member entered the marketplace and vanished from the watchful Godaime's sight and into the evening crowds, she realized faintly that the last remaining Hatake had not confirmed her question.

She spun her chair back around to face the room, brow furrowing in a nonplussed expression as she did so. Had he vanished from the room already?

But he still stood there, deathly still as he had been minutes before, gazing down at the object he himself had placed on her desk, face slate-solid and void of all expression; his dark eye was absent of any light or recognition, seeing but not seeing, far away and drowning in deep thought over the truth—in that same manner of thought that overcame him whenever he stood before the monument, that slab of names as cold as the corpses it commemorated.

Understanding quieting all the questions in her throat, Tsunade watched as the silent Copy-Nin's gloved hand descended to the table's sheen surface, the dexterous fingers enclosing around the object he had discovered alongside the elders' hidden documents.

His voice was muffled and strangely ponderous when it finally drifted through his mask's black fabric.

"I remember," he murmured thoughtfully. The Hokage curiously sought out his hooded eye, but found it trained unerringly upon the crumpled item draped across his fingers, "working with him once when I was in ANBU. He was very young then . . ." sighing, Kakashi slid the object over the desk and towards Tsunade.

He slipped his hands into his pockets, shoulders falling back into his familiar lackadaisical slouch; however, his stance adopted a forlornness that was not so familiar; he tilted his head, as if in thoughtful sorrow, and his silver mane fell over his eye and the folds of his hitai-ate.

"He was also the second person to ever tell me that my father was a hero," Kakashi shook his head slightly at the irony and the truths he still did not know, and turned to leave.

And as Tsunade watched him disappear behind the door and down the stairs, rather than in his characteristic cloud of smoke, she mused to herself that Hatake Kakashi had just looked like the thousand years in age he truly was.

Pursing her lips and pouring a hefty amount of sake into a ceramic cup, the Godaime began to sift through paperwork without real interest. The moon rose higher into the sky and glinted off of the object still resting upon the desk.

Wondering when the aim of shinobi had become one of genocide and forcing children to murder their own blood, she scooped the metal and black twined rope up within the cradle of her hand, and gazed down admirably at the necklace of Uchiha Itachi.

* * *

She could feel the violence of his shuddering and could only think to clench her arms tighter around him. Her cheek pressed closer to his back, against the rise and fall of muscle between his shoulder blades. And she heard her name, a nearly mute utterance like the soft whisper of wind created by a single wing beat, carrying over Sasuke's shoulder, so faint and broken that she could not even bring herself to believe he had been the one to say it.

One of his hands enclosed around her wrist in a suffocating vice grip, and he turned around with shock-scarred eyes to take her in, as if it was the first time he had seen her as anything other than a nin from the Leaf.

Frozen by the recognition in his eyes, Sakura allowed his steel grip to remain locked around her arm, watching as Sasuke's brow furrowed and the red hue faded from his tired eyes. Ignoring the red-stained water pooling around their ankles and the chaotic sounds muffled outside the abandoned building, the Uchiha released her wrist and pulled his hand—his limbs, now vanquished of any adrenaline, were weighted down in chakra exhaustion—up to the dirt-smudged face of his ex-teammate.

The tip of one extended finger traced the pale skin of the pinkette's jaw so lightly that her body became wracked with chilled shivers that tore a breathy gasp from her gently parted lips. Eyes brushing over every detail of her face, as if to reassure himself that she was indeed alive, only now that she was before him, breathing and watching him with potent worry swimming like unshed tears in her gaze, did he realize the extent of fear he had suppressed at the thought of the other bounty hunters ending her. That he was unable to protect her, that killing one of them had not been enough, and that, for the entire duration of time he was fighting the Mist shinobi, his gentle teammate lay lifeless and bleeding out beneath the frayed debris of the leveled building.

And in the midst of these morbid thoughts his exploring hand dropped to her neck.

Sakura flinched.

He froze.

And the outside world came rushing back to them.

Pounding footsteps invaded their silence and forced them to separate. Stepping so silently that his feet barely disturbed the water, Sasuke backed away from the dead body of the bounty hunter. He nodded to the fallen end of the roof beam and leapt onto its makeshift path that led up to the ceiling in a steep diagonal slant. When Sasuke glanced over his shoulder, his racing heart was quieted by the sight of Sakura eagerly running after his lead.

They threw themselves onto another mass of wood, the only structural beam that remained horizontal and intact across the underside of the abandoned building's roof. Their shoulders touched the unsteady ceiling when standing hunched on the wooden plank, their eyes anxiously watching the mirror of water below shake with tremulous ripples that told of approaching shinobi. Two of the hunters had escaped, and only the most naïve of academy students would bother hoping that they had not sought out help and were back scouring the battle sight for either them or their remains.

Shaking with renewed anger, Sasuke pushed up against the roof and slammed his fist repeatedly into the old cross-sections of bamboo supporting the roof of the building which, judging by its archaic architecture, was a temple long abandoned, a structure frozen within the realm of the past as Takigakure steadily became a thriving and modern village.

Sakura would have mused at the irony of its location next to a whorehouse, had she not been stunned by the bruised and bloodied state of Sasuke's knuckles.

Her green eyes widened in horror. Splintery shoots of the hard bark embedded unforgivingly beneath his skin, and Sakura's own hands reached out to stop him and help push against the crumbling panels, just as senbon and kunai rained upwards and into the ceiling. Still wrenching apart the roof, Sasuke quickly dodged to the side out of instinct, causing the pinkette to wince when a rusty blade pierced the bamboo less than a finger's width away from his ear.

"Dammit," he hissed and they pushed up with one last burst of strength, successfully dislodging the thin wood from the supporting bamboo poles.

Sakura blinked as gritty sawdust invaded her eyes while she pulled herself through the jagged hole and onto the roof. Pieces of shattered ceramic dug into the medic's skin; she landed harshly onto her damaged back and partly on her aching arm, all breath forced from her lungs and the young moon shining down upon her from the evening sky. Her thoughts were growing bleary, and her vision skewed.

_Was it nightfall already?_

Groaning piteously, she turned onto her side and looked back down through the hole in time to witness Sasuke slap a final exploding tag onto the surface of the crossbeam.

Panicking, the pinkette rolled with a struggle onto her knees. She gasped and screwed her eyes shut in agony, hand reaching backwards to clutch in vain at her spine.

Sasuke, having heard her, wasted no time in climbing onto the roof. He barely noticed the broken shards of tile cutting into his knees when he knelt beside her with an urgency he had not felt in a very long time. Blood was strewn across one side of her face and her hooded eyes were glazed over in exhaustion and—Sasuke grimaced—a possible concussion.

Avowing to himself that if the wind-nature shinobi was not already dead he would gladly kill him again, he helped Sakura stand with a hand around her arm, looked down into the building, saw the bounty hunters swarming around the perished Mist nin, and jumped off the roof.

Sakura stumbled when they hit the ground, muffling her groan of pain against his naked shoulder as the impact wrought pain up her spinal cord. Sasuke gripped her around the waist. He cursed under his breath, and her eyes rolled back into her lolling head, hair obscuring her visage. Casting one last look behind him, he hoisted her unconscious body over his shoulder and navigated rapidly and with skilled precision through the back alleys of the now vacant, dark streets.

The panting Uchiha sped like a blur over the village walls. He wrapped his arm tighter around Sakura's waist; his opposite hand gripped her thigh and kept her body firmly anchored over his shoulder despite the haphazard slapdash of his movement.

And just as he entered the haven of the forest, the old temple and half of the entire street burst forth violently and erupted into a bright flame that illuminated the surrounding night.

* * *

Sakura whimpered, fingers fisting into the sheets beneath her. A calloused hand gripped her shoulder and gently rolled her onto her stomach. Drawing his hand back and sifting its fingers through his mess of dark hair, Sasuke dropped down onto the floor next to the futon, upon which he had just tentatively deposited his companion.

His breathing was painfully hoarse from exhaustion, and he swallowed heavily to stifle the gravelly sensation creeping up his throat with each pant for air.

The seconds had bled into minutes and the minutes into hours while the Uchiha traversed through the forests of the Land of Waterfalls, away from Takigakure and the bounty hunters viciously stalking him, hunting him down to kill him. And now, they knew he was no longer travelling alone.

He fisted his hand weakly by his side, vanquished of all ability to move into a more comfortable position that did not find his tired body splayed onto the coldness of the wooden floor. Sakura was passed out on her front beside him and breathing just as uneasily as he. Her injured back was obviously tormenting her—even in her pained state of sleep—but Sasuke did not know what to do to ease her pain.

He sat up with a grimace. Chakra deprivation was creating an irritating sting within his overused muscles. The tips of his sweat-dampened hair tickled lightly across his bare shoulders as he turned to look down at the resting form of his ex-teammate.

Her large forehead wrinkled, covered by a layer of sweat, and rings of deep green appeared out from beneath her heavy eyelids, "Sasuke?"

The sound of her drowsy voice made it easier for the Uchiha to move himself to sit on the edge of the futon. Sakura started to turn onto her side, only to be thwarted by Sasuke's halting hand on her arm, "Don't move."

Lowering herself back down onto her stomach, the pink-haired medic allowed herself a light laugh, "We sure are a mess, aren't we, Sasuke-kun?"

He did not answer.

His eyes were trained on the wall over her head, seeing, watching something entirely unknown to her, as his hands searched for weapons to occupy his restless, alabaster hands. She could tell that the effects of his adrenaline had yet to fade completely. And so Sakura decided to leave him to his thoughts. They both had been through damn hell in Takigakure, and she knew they were both so tired, too tired to even sleep restfully.

The pain in her back and left arm had been reduced to dull ache, but she did not dare jostle her battered body. She only allowed her neck to turn so that she could figure out where Sasuke had taken them. The walls were old but not run-down or unkempt, stretching around them in a comforting fortress echoing the interior of any average teahouse inn. Her ears registered no sound, so she wondered whether or not they were alone inside the teahouse, as well as hoping to the heavens that Sasuke had not murdered anyone for their lodgings.

_No,_ she instantly berated herself harshly. Sasuke would kill if need be, but she would not do him the dishonor of believing him capable of cold-blooded murder. Not now. Not when his mind was no longer clouded with hatred. Or so he said.

Dragging her eyes away from the fascinating blankets of her futon, Sakura opened her mouth to ask Sasuke where they were specifically, only for an unforgiving heat to crawl its way up her neck and into the apples of her cheeks. She forgot that she was still wearing Sasuke's shirt, and the tempting view of him sitting there beneath the dim light of the paper lantern hanging overhead, the dips and contours of the skin on his torso still covered with a light luster of sweat, was doing strange things to the pit of her stomach.

His muscles tensed pleasingly with his movement and the sound of stone against blade filled the room in careening trills as Sasuke began sharpening his weapons.

An unbelievable, warm calmness came over Sakura while the minutes drifted by with a sluggishness that matched her current demeanor. Before and even during the war, she had never dreamed that they would be brought together like this, and with only one another's company to be found.

She sighed a peaceful sigh. It was impossible for her curiosity not to grow as she watched him go through the motions of tending to his several kunai, shuriken, and senbon. Their time in the brothel had gone by so fast. Neither was she keen to recollect it very clearly, but she remembered Yamada.

"Sasuke-kun?"

He acknowledged her with a slight turn of his head.

"Can I . . . can I see the scroll you got from Yamada?"

Sakura half expected him to scoff at her or—worse—simply ignore her; instead, he summoned the scroll with a succession of quick hand signs. Without pausing the systematic sharpening of his weapons, he tossed the small scroll into her already outstretched hand.

Pleasantly shocked, she opened the paper and scanned eagerly through its contents, which revealed an almost generic list of locations and names.

Sighing and letting it roll shut, she threw it back to him, "Is that how we'll find this . . . ninjato you got made? To replace the one you used before—" she bit her lip in restraint. She had almost said, "before you were captured," but feared it would do serious damage to that infamous Uchiha ego of his.

But he seemed to remain unfazed, and surprisingly offered more information.

"He, the man commissioned to reconstruct my weapon, had dealings with Orochimaru," he glanced up to catch her grimace at the mention of the man. "He later disappeared during Akatsuki's dominion."

"And that Yamada creep discovered his hiding place for you?"

"Hn."

Sakura fidgeted, watching as Sasuke began to store his blades into the hidden folds of his shinobi pants and weapons pouch. He had been obligingly forward with his thoughts as of late, perhaps because of the ordeal they had narrowly survived and escaped.

The pinkette was wholly uncomfortable with his intentions from here onward. His sword and his brother's remains.

Were there no other objectives—ones that did not entail death, violence, suffering—that he could foresee in his own future? She shifted on the small futon, stricken with the overwhelming urge to find out or convince him otherwise, to persuade him to perhaps—again—just let his fists fall limp without the strain of vendetta and _come home_.

And the words spilled out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"I don't know," she insisted, "dealing with someone who hung around Orochimaru so often . . . it's not a good idea."

Sasuke stiffened almost imperceptibly but Sakura, realizing what she had just implied about the Uchiha himself, swallowed nervously in remorse. Yes, Sasuke had gone to the snake Sannin willingly, but even suggesting that his goals and intentions were even similar to those of Orochimaru was shamefully underhanded of her, someone who had once sworn to understand him no matter his actions or the tainted nature of his past. That included anything where his family and his revenge were concerned.

Because he had screwed up. Badly. And they both knew this to be fact.

And all at once, he subconsciously raised the coldest of his walls.

"Well then," Sasuke's eyes and his voice grew cold in tandem, "no one's forcing you. You should have gone back to your village days ago."

The kunoichi bristled at his emphasis on implying that Konoha was not his home, and her indignant reaction was only fueled by her own guilt, "I'm going with you, Sasuke."

The last of his kunai grated against the rest of his weapons with a shrill scream as he slammed it harshly into the pouch.

The silence was deafening, but it dwindled against the pounding of Sakura's heart against her ribcage.

And when Sasuke finally spoke, he might as well have plunged Chidori into her chest.

"I care nothing for you. You are of no consequence to me, and my goals do not involve you."

She could no longer look into his cold, cold eyes and allowed her vision to drop to her fingers as she wrung them violently against each other. The hurt was overwhelming, but she refused to allow any tears to flow. He had said similar things to her in the past, but what he had just claimed was so distant, so resolute that she could scarcely bring herself to breathe, for fear that her already exhausted mind would just break down and fail her.

Sakura's head was reeling and her usually sharp thoughts staggered beneath the burden of renewed heartbreak. The moments between them swam in her mind, and one of them, one that seemed so subtle and insignificant, suddenly became incredibly meaningful in hindsight.

"_I no longer wish to live out my vengeance, but I cannot live in a village that destroyed my past."_

"_We are your family, Sasuke," she pleaded, "Team Seven. So please, please come back. Kakashi and Naruto, they'll always care about you. I care about you," the pinkette's shoulders slumped. "You should know that by now, Sasuke-kun."_

_Characterized by an odd mixture of exasperation and amusement, a scoff from the young man brought Sakura's gaze back to her ex-teammate._

_She tried to approach him again, but he moved his arm—the chains crested over the granite ground at the movement, their threatening presence as a weapon keeping the medic at bay._

_Once he was sure that Sakura would keep her distance, the Uchiha slumped back against the wall with one hand covering his closed eyes, as if they were overly sensitive to even the light-vanquished darkness inside the mountain._

Sakura's brow furrowed and her heart rate increased.

The prison cell. The chains.

Her eyes alight in realization, she looked back up at Sasuke, who was now dabbing at the sliced skin of his arm and the mess of his knuckles with the gauze that had once bound his abdomen. The gash across his stomach had thankfully not opened during the fight in Takigakure, but the skin was still an angry red.

She murmured, slightly in shock, "You do _care_."

Sasuke froze and his shirtless state allowed Sakura to see every tense shift of his muscles, the tenuous tightening of every tendon beneath his skin.

"When we were in the prison cell," she continued, absolutely breathless, "you threatened me with the chains. You scared me away,"

Jaw tightening, Sasuke stood slowly and walked towards the small window with completely silent strides.

"You knew you were going to use that jutsu to escape, and so you made me back away."

Biting her lip, Sakura waited for his reaction. Confirmation. Adamant denial. Anything.

But Sasuke made no response and continued to gaze out into the night sky, the moon's luminescence creating a soft line of light surrounding his lean form.

While she admired him from her position in the room, Sakura realized she had expected as much. Nevertheless, she felt weightless, yet even more exhausted that she initially had been, and she could think of nothing more to say, no matter how much her heart was soaring. Allowing her head to fall onto the pillow, she wound her fingers into the thin material of Sasuke's shirt, in the patch of fabric directly above her heart. In the midst of her relief, the deep-seated exhaustion finally became her master.

Dark in his reflection, Sasuke would remain by the window the entirety of the night.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Thank you so very much for your response last chapter; I was overwhelmed and so extremely happy that you would take the time to review my story, and I just want to thank you for all of your support thus far. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and this turning point in their relationship just as much.**

**I also hope that you liked the conversation between Kakashi and Tsunade, and that it provided a certain amount of clarity while also creating more questions; I also feel that Itachi seemed like the type of person who would say something like that to Kakashi if they ever encountered one another within an institution like "the foundation." Well, I'll try and update as soon as I can because you've all been so wonderful and patient.**

**Again, thank you for reading and please, do review!**


	12. Green-Eyes

_**The Atrophy and Redemption of Uchiha Sasuke**_

_ Chapter Eleven: Green-Eyes_

* * *

Time lapsed like shadows morphing within the dark haven of the forest surrounding them, and the Leaf shinobi slept on into the following day, the dim light of the morning sun causing them no more disturbance than the muted rustle of windblown leaves outside the inn.

It was Sasuke that awoke first from his sprawl on the creaky bamboo. His eyelids fluttered beneath the light streaming in through the crudely constructed window. The glass that had once sealed away the outside was long gone, perhaps even for years.

The Uchiha's first sighting was of the dust layer blanketing the bottom of the sill. With measured movement, he slowly blinked the sleep from his eyes. He had procured a pounding headache after having remained awake upon their arrival and through the entire night, but the painful prickling seemed to have long vanished. Chakra hummed, nearly renewed, within the Uchiha's reserves. Even Sakura's own life energy seemed to undulate in soothing swells from across the room, but it was obvious still that she needed more rest.

Sasuke released a measured sigh. He turned his head, the remainder of his rested body unmoved from the floor, and sought with black eyes until they fell upon the young woman, whose body and features embellished the graying sheets in vibrant stains of peach skin and the soft blossom hues of her hair. His brow furrowed, gaze observantly watching the rise and fall of her back. The neck of Sasuke's frayed shirt was wide around her shoulders, exposing a nasty collage of dark bruises that nearly covered the entirety of her back like ink marring an otherwise perfect canvas. It was only then that his mind registered what pain remained in his abdomen and bicep. A glance down to the lean arm in question proved his suspicion—black-tinged was the flesh surrounding the gash smeared with a glaze of dried blood.

The Uchiha knew he should have known better than to disregard a possibly poisoned wound as just another battle scar, and now he was being punished for his distraction with the obvious presence of toxins running through his veins, as accustomed to mild Mist poisons as he may have become over the years. Casting a curt glare upon Sakura's unconscious form, the Uchiha forced himself to his feet and crossed the width of the small room with even, silent steps, the lukewarm breeze blowing over him from outside once he slid open the door. The air cloaked his naked chest and back, cooling skin once heated beneath humidity-induced sweat; soft but dirty in its unkempt state, Sasuke's hair brushed against his shoulders in a sway that matched the rise and fall of his swift gait.

His companion's drowsy voice reached him from across the room, "Sasuke?"

Sighing, he threw her a glance over his shoulder. The site of her honest green eyes evoked a reluctant pang of worry in the pit of his stomach. It was all too easy to turn the feeling to spite.

Sakura could barely register the scoff of irritation when he muttered to her under his breath, "You're hungry, aren't you?"

The screen mutely slid shut behind him.

* * *

Three hours sauntered passed aimlessly in the muggy air of the inn, and Sasuke still had yet to return.

And if Sakura was not so low on chakra she would have already been rampaging through the forest, tearing up trees by the roots in order to find that elusive teammate of hers if necessary—yet, she was not angry in the slightest. Nor was she frustrated.

She was worried, and that worry manifested itself in the pit of her stomach and in the pounding beneath her ribcage, frightening her until beads of sweat formed upon her brow and her face shone beneath the salty liquid. The pinkette had ventured in vain to get more sleep, only succeeding in shutting her eyes for a few fitful moments. Finally, she just could not take it anymore.

Her careful movement pinched a nerve in her back when she shifted with utmost caution off of her stomach and onto her side, pushing her body up with shaky arms until she managed a stiff perch onto her knees. With one final wince, the kunoichi rose to her feet.

_Dammit, Sasuke-kun._ Her muscles loosened almost dramatically even as she pulled on her shinobi boots and made the unsure, short trek through the shoji screen and out onto the sunlight-warmed engawa.

Summoning scant healing chakra into her fingertips, Sakura began massaging her temples until the comforting thrum eased her exhaustion-induced migraine to a bearable degree. Dizziness halted her footsteps once she stepped off of the exterior wooden flooring and onto the forest floor. The soft earth and the trees, which stood closer and closer together with every stride away from the old hideaway, surrounded the kunoichi and she found herself at a loss concerning in which direction Sasuke may have gone.

Had he left her like this a mere few days ago, she would have believed that he had abandoned her—not for the first time—and was already on his way to Kumogakure or wherever the hell he had the inclination to travel; however, that option did not seem even slightly possible now, now that she and Sasuke had escaped death and begun to travel together. Just like they used to. Minus their perverted sensei and a certain blonde knucklehead of a friend, of course.

The darkness certainly was doing nothing to assist her bleary eyes, but this annoyance was the least of the kunoichi's worries; the forest seemed to be closing in around her from every visible direction, every twisted branch overhead distorting until they eventually resembled the spindly chaos of a spider's web. It made Sakura dizzy but, more than anything, it made her irritated with herself, her teammate, and the entire damn situation.

Had she simply scoffed at Fujita's words back at the inn, had she repressed her suspicions and carried out her mission as was expected of her, she would not be stumbling, half delirious with fatigue, in the middle of the wilderness somewhere between Rock country and Kami-forsaken Lightning.

With a groan, Sakura sagged against a tree.

She would also be safe at home—carelessly safe at home and completely ignorant of the last Uchiha traveling stubbornly across the countryside, from village to village and valley to mountain, searching dispassionately for a peace nonexistent within the realm of one's own power and abilities. Nonexistent within loneliness.

All he had ever been able to accomplish was the replacement of that elusive peace with empty goals. These goals would only ever provide a kind of superficial, hardly even temporary, solace to subdue his rampant mind.

A light sound drew Sakura from her thoughts and she found herself on the alert and suddenly renewed in her tenacity to carry Sasuke through.

Through _what_ exactly, she could not yet be sure.

The ache of suffocation disappeared from her chest as these fond thoughts began to strengthen her resolve, lighting up emerald eyes that scoured the forest for the slightest flurry of movement. Her muscles coiled tight in preparation. Her breath left her in a quick sputter of air when she saw a small black mouse scurry out of the undergrowth, over her boot, and back into a dark cluster of trees, the depths of which easily evaded her eyes.

Sakura had just begun to laugh in wonder at the audacity of her nerves when her still-hyperactive senses detected the weak, familiarly cold flare of Sasuke's chakra. Fear again rose within her, for the presence of _weakness_ in Sasuke's chakra alone was enough to warrant a damn heart-attack.

Eager but clumsy, the pinkette nearly stumbled on tree roots and clumps of damp earth; had such obstacles not slowed her pace, she would surely not have seen the prostrate form slumped beneath a massive tree that stood cloaked in the pitch darkness of charred bark. It had obviously been the victim of encroaching flames long ago.

Already running toward the prone silhouette, Sakura could see that Sasuke appeared to be breathing with immense difficulty, panting under the exertion. She sunk to her knees beside him, hands instantly moving to press healing chakra into his chest—but his body was gone before they could make contact, and the medic was left to watch the stubborn Uchiha stumble to his feet, thoroughly bewildered by his sudden recovery.

His grip on the tree aided him in standing. The muscles shook in his arms and Sakura watched in shock as thin rivulets of blood leaked from the gash on his bicep. She was aghast at the sight of the early side-effects of mild poison making themselves known right there on his skin.

He had not bothered to tell her. She may have been injured and unconscious but he had not even bothered to tell her. Sakura's teeth gnashed against each other and a commanding frustration that had been festering within her since she had dropped into the cold pit of the Rock prison snapped.

Her hands flexed against the dirt they had collided with rather than warm skin. Anger wove itself into her worry, tightening until the latter became nearly strangled within the patchwork of her open outrage, "Three. _Hours._"

The seething kunoichi rose to her feet with sharp, jerky movements, "You didn't even bother to tell me where the hell you were going, and I waited _three damn hours_ for you to come back," she watched with belligerence as Sasuke's jaw tensed while he leaned his spent body against the burned tree trunk. Cold sweat glistened where the sunlight managed to catch on his alabaster skin.

Amazingly, the bark of the tree had already begun to gradually fall away, and small patches of living green were visible underneath.

Animosity suddenly spiking without warning, Sakura trudged forward with her anger burning like green flame in her eyes, "Are you so fucking adverse to my presence that you couldn't even wait for me to heal you before going hunting by yourself? Frankly, I've had enough of your ego, enough of your stubbornness, and _enough_ of your _revenge!_"

Had she not been so furious, perhaps her blatant use of vulgarity would have shamed Sakura. Nevertheless, she was stomping up to her unaffected companion and practically spitting poison in his face with every word of frustration that flew from her mouth. Sasuke's expression was grim and a tick of strained muscle would occasionally become visible beneath the taught skin of his jaw.

Once his own anger began to spread to his usually blank eyes, Sakura clamped her mouth shut, the end of her rant causing her body to seemingly deflate, along with the rushing blood that had been pounding onto her skull up until now.

She stumbled forward dizzily. The hand that reached out like a whirring shuriken to steady her was the only reason she did not fall to her knees. Sasuke kept his slender hand firmly clasped about her shoulder until his companion was able to catch her breath and keep herself upright.

Sakura's limbs were heavy, a cruel reminder that she had not yet gotten enough rest adequate enough to replenish her chakra to more reasonable levels. Her legs felt as if Lee's training weights were strapped along her sore calves, straining her muscles worse than even her last bout of friendly training with Sai and Kakashi-sensei.

Suddenly bashful at her outburst, the kunoichi chose to study the dusty surface of her nin boots with great interest. Anything would be better than looking him in the eye. She bit her lip in self-deprecation.

Yelling at Naruto to reprimand him for his reckless—and oftentimes quite idiotic—behavior was a common occurrence in their relationship, which was one almost like that between close siblings. It was just a defining aspect of their interaction, a norm of disguised affection that had existed between them since childhood. He hit on her; she hit _him_ with a backhand. He greeted her with an obnoxious kissing face; she glowered and threatened to punch him until he was imbedded inside the rocks of Hokage Mountain. That was the way it was.

But Sasuke was different. Of course he was. And Sakura was beyond ashamed of her words for, although Sasuke was difficult—had _always_ been difficult—the kunoichi knew very well that all of his actions were tinged with pain and lost despair and, on some occasions, damn good reasons found in the suffering of his past. And he was barely seventeen years old.

Slowly, allowing the rose curtain of her ragged hair to fall back and expose her face once again, Sakura lifted her eyes and looked into the face of her teammate, only to find that his own gaze was cast to the forest floor.

His visage was completely obscured by his long black bangs. Every strand seemed to move under the influence of his breath, "You are in no condition to heal anyone, Sakura. Much less myself."

Sakura allowed his words to register in her now sluggish brain. Her fingers fidgeted distractedly with the hem of Sasuke's large shirt that still hung, dark and worn, from her shoulders. The patch of his dried blood grazed against her stomach with each breath.

"Did you find food, Sasuke-kun?" the realization that Sasuke was looking at her again drove the pinkette to distraction, and she resisted the urge to begin nervously rocking back and forth on her heels, which was ridiculous because, honestly, she had not done that since she was in the academy.

Deftly, Sasuke shook his head and wondered why he had even bothered to, as the annoying kunoichi was not even looking at him, "Let's head back to rest. Then we'll go into the village."

"Village?" it was amazing to watch her eyes light up in curiosity, to see such a blatant shift in her demeanor simply because he was talking to her.

He nodded, this time feeling the action justified, "There should be one just short of eight miles east of here," he lifted an arm to point out the direction, and they both began to walk back towards their temporary residence. His breathing had just then returned to normal.

Sakura was amazed at his sense of direction and ability to reconcile it with his extensive knowledge of the land stretching within the borders of and outside the five nations. Her excellent memory was familiar enough with the location of these lands, but Sasuke had travelled much more than she had and truly knew the terrain because of it. However, she was well aware that they were travelling east and wondered if they would board a ship to Kumogakure before they reached Oto, as the area was infamous for being one of potent danger.

They passed many places in the forest Sakura had not seen during her race through the trees, and she was shocked to discover several man-made landmarks littering the forest floor in eroded masses. A large metal contraption towered high amongst the trees, its rusty blade and surface buried in vines, making it practically indistinguishable from the surrounding plant life.

Sasuke must have noticed her observations, for he clarified, "There used to be a small logging village here; the building we are staying in used to be its teahouse."

"Where are the people?"

"Relocated. To the eastern village."

Sakura had drawn closer to him while they walked side by side, "Why were they relocated? What happened?"

"War."

Sakura's playful curiosity came to an abrupt halt. This thing called war had stopped being a mere idea and had become a reality for the kunoichi long ago. She could not bother to resurrect her curiosity to ask him which war he spoke of, for the effect was all the same, although she was certain the ruins were far too old to be the result of the fighting that had ended only months ago.

They passed the remainder of the distance in a pleasant silence that burned their ears in the sudden absence of their previous argument. They had experience few genuine disagreements between each other, and every one of those moments were scathing in hindsight. But those moments, though few, were effective in progressing their relationship by the most unusual of means. Always severely emotionally charged, they pressed them to release frustrations they normally would not have. At least, that was how they affected Sakura, though she thought no less of Sasuke following these instances of tension. But Sasuke always perceived her differently.

The Uchiha stopped walking several paces outside the vicinity of the old teahouse and knelt to his knees. Thankful, the pinkette watched in fascination as materials from both his pockets and the forest ground became an intricate trap in his capable hands. She remembered learning a simpler variation of this animal trap in the academy. It was almost comforting, the thought that the rogue nin still used this method to trap food when absolutely necessary.

"You seem to be holding up fine, Sasuke-kun, but I'll have to draw out whatever poison is left in your system. . . . I suppose," Sakura murmured, trying to ignore how much her back was hurting her, "we should get some rest before eating. Then it would be wise to replenish our supplies in the eastern village, ne?"

She looked bravely down at Sasuke in time to catch the subtle nod of his head, the way the movement barely mussed his hair.

"Yes."

As usual, his quietude made her uneasy. For him.

* * *

"Onigiri! Fresh Onigiri!"

Handsome and enthusiastic in his work, a young rice vendor passed beneath the shade of the logging village's small but ornate entrance gate; he leant against the smooth red wood, holding his steaming wicker basket out to all who passed close by him as they paraded under the wooden structure. Surprisingly bright, sunlight rained down upon the houses visible where the forest ended and yielded to vast stretches of open field.

The village was an important center of trade, and its resulting bustle rose almost electric into the air above.

Lost in nostalgic thoughts of how Konoha's gates dwarfed the ones before her, Sakura failed to see the vendor's cheeks dimple under his dashing smile once he caught sight of her drawing nearer and nearer to the entrance.

The two Leaf shinobi allowed themselves to be swept up in the surge of the moderate crowd heading into the village, well aware that the majority of the chatting people were heading to and from the larger village of Takigakure.

Sasuke briefly grazed the pad of one finger over the swell of his teammate's wrist bone.

Alarmed, Sakura tore her gaze from her new surroundings and looked up from within the crowd of travelers and merchant civilians, venturing to see over the ocean of heads with the curious beryl of her searching eyes that shone brilliantly beneath the sun's rays. Sasuke caught her gaze now that he had her attention and motioned with a light jerk of his head to a group of four or so men talking animatedly amongst themselves. Once Sasuke and Sakura came closer to the labor-hardened men, the kunoichi was able to hear what her silent companion already had; the words expressed dismay over the recent news brought by travelers, including the oh-so "unfortunate leveling of the largest brothel in Takigakure's red-light district," as well as the unexplained explosion that came from the abandoned temple and apparently "shook the entire foundation of the village with its destruction."

Not waiting to see if rumors had yet spread of mysterious figures stealing away into the night, the wary Leaf nin changed pace and sought to move away from the push and pull of the crowd without drawing unwanted attention to themselves.

All at once, they lost sight of each other, causing Sakura to curse the slightness of her form and the way it caused her height to be dwarfed by the strangers around her. She spun. Her abrupt inability to tamp down her rising panic caused the kunoichi to find herself practically pushed up against the pillar of the gate in her attempt to wind her way outside the crowd so that she could find Sasuke. She winced at the pressure bearing down on her back, before she managed to braced her hand against the wall to keep from falling when a merchant barreled into her shoulder and continued to hurry passed her with only a gruff "s'cuse me."

Sakura's temper emerged and she prepared to call after him when a smooth voice resonated calmly beside her.

"Rude bastard, isn't he?"

Startled, the kunoichi ignored the hairs standing on the back of her neck and turned to face the owner of the tranquil voice, snatching her hand away from the wall and from where another callused one had been teasingly placed over her own.

"Sorry," the young man grinned warmly, and moved to shift his basket to his now unoccupied hand. Sakura recognized him as the onigiri merchant she had briefly spotted from afar, "but your hand seemed tense. You look nervous."

Instantly suspicious of any stranger so unassumingly kind, Sakura responded curtly, "I'm fine."

A brow quirked on the man's handsome face, "I see . . . you must be a visitor here. Surely I would remember if I had seen you before."

The pinkette ignored the way his eyes remained appraisingly settled on her hair and the exotic hue of her eyes and subtly tried to move away from him—but not too far, as the broadness of his back helped to shield her from the seemingly endless stream of travelers passing in and out of the flourishing lumber village. His warm russet eyes seemed nice enough, and his advancements and compliments certainly were not lascivious . . . but this did not stop the cautious young woman from keeping her distance and eagerly searching the influx of people for a head of messy, unkempt raven hair.

"Come on, green-eyes," much to Sakura's frustration, the man gently gripped her by the wrist and proceeded to guide her through the shifting mass of bodies.

Her first impulse was to tear her wrist from his grip, but she suppressed it and instead allowed him to lead her passed the entrance and into the village, all the time looking worriedly for just one glimpse of Sasuke.

She and the young merchant had finally emerged from the entryway when she felt his presence—not his chakra, his presence, an unexplainable sensation that quickened her heartbeat and tickled at the base of her neck; as she turned to move away, however, the light weight encircling her wrist tightened, jerking her body backwards. Sakura's body instinctively rejected the touch. She dug her feet into the dirt, the only reason she did not fall into the young man's basket of rice, and glared up into brown eyes focused suspiciously on something over her shoulder. She freed her hand with her own strength. It would be unwise to mold chakra in the midst of so many people, civilian or not.

The panic left her like the receding tide when she spotted Sasuke approaching from the far pillars of the gate. His eyes were narrowed—whether in suspicion or anger, Sakura could not tell. He looked stunningly out of place with the absence of any upper clothing, but the heat of the afternoon kept observers from becoming too bewildered at his shirtless state. The missing nin's eyes were focused on Sakura's form with each step in his stride; they darted suddenly to the side of her head, watching as the brown-haired vendor placed the hand not occupied with holding his merchandise on the shoulder of his teammate, watched her tense under the man's touch and relax slightly soon after. This caused his worry to fade as well. He was already frustrated at the rapidity with which his instincts surged to aid the pinkette, so he refused to expend concern for her wellbeing any further when even she appeared to detect no threat.

"You know that man, green-eyes?"

Flushing slightly at the nickname, Sakura nodded and removed his hand from her shoulder, flinching when his grip tightened in disbelief before yielding to her will and withdrawing from her altogether. His eyes traced suspiciously over Sasuke's rough appearance and the filthy state of the oversized black shirt enveloping the strange girl who had such a riveting and rare eye color for this region, "Are you sure? You looked almost frightened back there. Is he harassing you or something? Because if he is I ca—"

"No," the word left Sakura's mouth before the vendor even had a chance to finish his troublesome questioning. A brief pang of shame followed her speech. There was no reason for her to shy away from the brunette boy so adamantly, for he was only a polite young man showing concern for a girl in a strange town, after all. Nevertheless, her eyes remained pinned onto Sasuke and she was too happy to see him to feel ashamed at her rudeness for very long.

Sasuke had stopped walking and stood like an unmovable oak more than ten paces before them.

"He's a good friend. Thanks a lot for your help though," Sakura threw a good-natured smile to her new acquaintance and moved to meet Sasuke.

Once she reached his side she cast a final glance at the onigiri vendor and saw him frowning a frown that looked entirely foreign on his friendly features.

Suddenly, he seemed to force a smile to his face and threw the basket upwards, catching the handle with the opposite hand before it could plummet to the dirt, "No problem. I'm Tomoya, by the way!" the brazen smile faltered slightly once his gaze shifted to Sasuke. He then turned around instantly, looking back over his shoulder only to smile again at Sakura one last time,

"Goodbye then . . . green-eyes."

Sakura's brow furrowed. She watched, expecting him to return to the gate to continue on with his sales, but instead he circled around the entrance and disappeared behind the vibrant greeting flap of a nondescript restaurant.

Once Tomoya was gone from her sight, she ran to join Sasuke, who was already walking to the nearest market shop.

She reached him in a cloud of kicked-up dust and fallen leaves, "Sasuke-kun? Is your arm bothering you?"

He graced her with no verbal answer. Neither did he pay any attention to the doting way Sakura's eyes remained trained upon his bandaged bicep.

The shadows of full tree branches above them enshrouded his form in swimming splotches of black. His face was blank. His countenance betrayed neither anger nor worry. Dull and empty, his dark eyes briefly greeted her in cold recognition before he reached out to open the establishment door and entered.

Sakura remained standing outside for a brief moment. Confused with herself, she propped her clenched fists on her hips and stared at the dust coating her boots, wondering if she should feel relieved or disappointed that Sasuke appeared to be completely unaffected by their encounter with the young vending man who so sweetly called her green-eyes.

* * *

Transferring her newly acquired medical supplies, including a _hefty_ amount of bandages, into the standard pouch belt she had just purchased from the shop behind her, Sakura allowed her eyes to trail after Sasuke while he walked down the main village road and away from the market district.

His stride was as rapid as always, his posture alarmingly straight beneath the brand new shirt now clinging to his torso in folds of durable, dark blue fabric.

He kept to the shadows and disappeared around a corner. Sakura shook her head. Her lungs expelled a deep sigh and she leaped down from the bamboo engawa before continuing on into the crossroads of the village in search of any vendor selling medicinal herbs. Although she had managed to draw most of the low-level poison from Sasuke's system, the gash on the Uchiha's arm was still infected, and the healing properties of medicinal herbs would draw out the infection and save her from the need of expending much more of her chakra this soon.

She knew from experience that the hospital and medic stands tended to be located in the most populated areas of a village, and so she allowed herself to be swept up in the difficult task of following the crowds while also preventing any unnecessarily close contact with those around her. Surprisingly enough, however, she found her evasiveness to be mindlessly executed, as her thoughts swirled helplessly around the image of a young man walking away, the expanse of his corded back always burning into her eyelids afterwards.

The sun's position overhead told her that at least an hour remained before she and Sasuke were to meet at the village gate, so that they could depart and return to the abandoned teahouse together. The Uchiha had told her he had never ventured into this new village before, yet, while he certainly had no reason to lie to her, the ease with which he navigated its layout suggested otherwise. She supposed it was just part of him as a person, to be so seemingly sure of himself. The kunoichi sighed; she knew as well as Naruto that his behavior was deceiving. Uchiha Sasuke was wandering without a purpose, lying to himself with the internal promise that each new goal he was able to recognize would fulfill the desire to simply _live,_ a desire to find his place back to an eight-year-old boy never before accosted by hatred. When would he admit that he just could not do this on his own? His inevitable moment of reckoning—of self-realization—was inevitable, and Sakura was not looking forward to the aftermath. Not that she was confident in what the exact outcome itself would be.

The flood waters of grief can only be held back so long.

Interrupting this line of thought, a rusty sign just to the right of Sakura's vision recaptured her attention. Its faded red letters spelled out the generic advertising words "Bargain: Medicinal Herbs."

Sakura removed herself from the fluctuating throng of civilians and angled her way towards the large stand, observing the small containers of pulverized curing plants with the critical eye of a skilled and experienced medic.

* * *

The village was darker.

Here, at least, it had grown darker, beneath the worn and threadbare tarps reaching from roof to roof and blanketing the nearly vacant paths with superficial shade. Here, in the oddly quiet realm that was host to transactions of a more underground sort, in comparison to the lively market district offering vegetables and imported fabric where Sasuke had left Sakura.

This village was mostly civilian in population, and so the purchase of blades, exploding tags, and other weapons was largely uncommon except in nondescript stands such as this.

Sasuke ran his gaze along a row of kunai pouches and ignored the misty-eyed staring from the old shop owner. Most of the pouches were connected to oversized thigh straps and so the rogue nin immediately dismissed them; some appeared fairly new while others were damaged beyond recognition by excessive use. One grey pouch in the far corner—Sasuke was certain—was still stained dark on its side with dried blood. Growing impatient with the curious prying of eyes coming both from within and outside the rundown establishment, Sasuke grabbed one and paid for it along with his other weapons purchases.

He briefly wondered how he had managed to remember the material and balance Sakura favored in her kunai pouches after seeing her buy a pouch from a vendor only once when they were genin.

Having left the stand, Sasuke began walking back towards the main street. He was growing increasingly irritated with the persistent tenderness in his left bicep that turned to pain whenever he moved his arm. Halfway to the worn path that led back to the main road, an unforeseen gust of wind clamored beside Sasuke's ears; however, the distraction did not keep his senses from detecting a strange chakra signature two crossroads behind him before the air around him became static once again.

The rogue ninja turned swiftly, his feet making nary a sound on the dry earth. They grazed easily across the earth without disturbing the ground's peppering of dust. Maintaining the skilled mask on his chakra, the Uchiha approached the source of the energy flare with the black tomoe spinning headily in his irises. The side road was suddenly vacant of all sound, despite the fact that even muted footsteps and whispers had occupied the area when Sasuke had first arrived.

The tattered tarps connected to the trees and buildings overhead blocked out much of the sunlight from above, except for in the occasional tear in the fabric. Several silent moments passed. Another arrival of afternoon breeze, calmer this time, carried the scent of grass to the still young man's nostrils. The tips of his ebony hair fluttered up and around his face before falling back into their usual haphazard spikes.

Deciding that the illegal activities of some other lowly missing shinobi did not warrant his time, Sasuke deactivated his bloodline limit and, not sensing the presence of any palpable threat, turned to leave—

But the sound of scuffling resonated behind him again and caused him to turn around once more.

Sasuke's brow furrowed in concentration. His red eyes trained on the road just ahead of him.

Just in time to see Sai soaring passed him through the air and the ANBU's body slamming violently into the rickety, wooden stand at the end of the road until his battered body lay supine beneath the rubble.

* * *

**A/N:**

**I'm so, so sorry about the long wait; I was lost on the road of life . . . honest!**

**Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me. I tried to make it up to you guys by extending the length of this chapter more than I had originally planned, so I hope you enjoyed it! I can't tell you how much I appreciate your support. If you would like some more updates on how far along I am in my writing processes and information on some new stories I have in the works, feel free to visit my Word Press (the link can be found on my profile if you wish to seek it out).**

**And I really wanted to get this written and posted before next week, in honor of Kishimoto's beautiful gift of a chapter, Chapter 631 of Naruto. It was amazing, and really inspired me to finally finish this chapter.**

**Please, do review!**


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